


Wasted Wishes, Failed Endeavors, and Most Precious Dreams

by coldflashwavebaby



Category: 10th Kingdom, DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe-The 10th Kingdom Fusion, Attempted Drowning mention, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Betrayal, Break Up, F/F, Happily Ever Afters, I suck at tagging, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Lewis Snart's A+ Parenting, M/M, Mass Poisoning, Mind Control, Minor Character Death, OT3, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Ratings may go up, Stabbing, Threesome - M/M/M, True Love, Wolf Mick, coldflash big bang, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-08-18 06:38:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 93,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8152552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coldflashwavebaby/pseuds/coldflashwavebaby
Summary: "You know, I’m beginning to get the feeling that you don’t trust me very much.” “I don’t trust you at all! You broke into my father’s apartment, attacked me, and your friend almost ate my dad!”In which Oliver Queen is a cursed prince, Mick is the Big Bad Wolf, Len hates the Evil Queen, and Barry, Iris, and Joe just want to go home. Written for the Coldflash Big Bang.





	1. Blood in the Snow

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you pansexual-fandom-queen, ereri-yaoi-lover, and my sister, Aimee, for reading over this story for me :) I know it wasn't easy, but thank you all!

**Book 1: Blood on the Snow**

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**

**“I will hurt you for this. I don't know how yet, but give me time. A day will come when you think yourself safe and happy, and suddenly your joy will turn to ashes in your mouth, and you'll know the debt is paid.”**

**― George R.R. Martin**

**  
**

            There’s a moment in every person’s life when they realize that nothing exciting is ever going to happen to them. For Barry Allen, that moment had already come and gone. He was working as a barista at Jitters along with his foster sister, Iris, because no police department within six hundred miles would take a chance and hire someone that didn’t even look old enough to drive—which, really, it wasn’t his fault he had such a baby face. His last relationship ended with his partner telling him that, after two dates, he wasn’t emotionally invested enough.

            So, it was fair to say that Barry’s life wasn’t exactly heading in the direction he wanted. He woke up, rode his bike to Jitters, worked until closing time, came home to the house he still lived in with his foster father, and went to bed, knowing that tomorrow would be exactly the same. It was boring, but safe. It was the life he was apparently destined to live in.

            Wow, that was dramatic. Maybe he needed to lay off watching soap operas with Iris.

            The alarm on his phone made him pulled him from his thoughts. _Crap._ He threw on his coat and ran for the stairs, barely missing the open door to the panic room that Joe _insisted_ they have installed during a string of break-ins back when he and Iris were in high school.

            _“Why exactly do we need a panic room?” Iris had asked. “You’re a cop.”_

_“Well, I’m not always going to be here, am I?” Joe argued. “What if someone breaks in and you or Barry are here by yourselves?”_

_Iris laughed at that. “I will beat them with the heaviest thing within arm’s reach until they realize that they broke into the wrong house.”_

            Suffice to say, that didn’t make Joe feel better, hence the panic room. Which now had to stay open all the time because the timer was broken and it wouldn’t open like it was supposed to. Barry wrote out a note reminding Joe to call someone to come fix it on his way out.

             God, he really needed a car. Not to say he didn’t appreciate the bike that Joe bought him, but seriously. He was already known for being late as it was. Speaking of which…if he took the road through town, he’d definitely be late. But if he took a shortcut through the park…

            He spared a glance towards the Central City Park. The park was more or less a nature preserve that ran around the outside of the city and, incidentally, was the quickest way to get from his neighborhood to downtown. Joe, never liked him or Iris to cut through the woods.

_“Dangerous people could be lurking in there doing God knows what.”_

Barry bit his lip in thought, before giving a shrug. “ _What Joe didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.”_

            Later on, Barry would wish that he’d listened to Joe. He’d wish that he’d called in sick for work, or that he’d just came in late and gotten fired. Because, whether he believed it or not, Barry’s life was about to get a whole lot more exciting. And the beginning of that was when, halfway through his ride, he was thrown forward off his bike by a prince.

0000000

In a world of 9 Kingdoms trapped behind the glass of a magic mirror, Prince Oliver Queen was having a bad day. Honestly, he’d thought that his week couldn’t get any worse, what with the planning of his coronation—sure, he had Thea and her fiancé, Roy, helping out by riding to the council chambers in the mid-province and checking their progress, but it was still hectic—having to visit every town in the 4th Kingdom to accept his coronation gifts and ‘get to know the people’ according to his caretaker, Walter, and now having to visit his psychotic stepmother for her parole hearing.

            The closer Snow White Memorial Prison got, the more he dreaded facing her. The last time he’d laid eyes on his stepmother, he was a seventeen-year-old orphan holding his little sister as the crazy woman was carted after attempting to murder him. Now, he was a twenty-nine-year-old soon to be king, and she was locked in prison. She couldn’t hurt him.

            At least, that’s what he told himself.

            He should’ve known something was wrong the second the carriage stopped outside the doors. Usually, whenever visitors arrived, there was some sort of escort waiting at the door for them. When that visitor was _royalty_ , the warden made sure there was a processional, with trumpets and red carpets and everything.

            The nature of Oliver’s visit had him so worked up, he didn’t even notice—there was no one there. No escort, no governor. There wasn’t even a guard. He climbed out of the carriage, two of his bodyguards following, and sighed. _Better get this over with._

              They strode towards the door, Oliver trying to convey as much royalty as he could with every step. When they stepped inside, they were met with a sight they didn’t expect.

            “Hello, Prince Oliver.”  

            Standing in the center of the empty entryway was the King of 3rd Kingdom, Malcolm Merlyn Oliver frowned, too shocked to really be frightened. “Why are you here, Malcolm?” He growled in an attempt to seem unfazed. “You were banished from the 4th Kingdom.”

            The King grinned at Oliver’s guards. “I think this should be a private conversation, don’t you?” Before they could react, Malcolm pulled two knives from his belt and threw them, each one embedding itself into a guard’s chest. When they fell lifeless to the ground, Malcolm laughed darkly. “That’s better. To answer your question, I’m here visiting an old…acquaintance of ours. I heard that she was pushing for early parole, and I just _had_ to make sure she got it.”

            The door behind Malcolm opened, and Oliver felt everything crash around him. His stepmother— _the Queen_ —stepped into the room, her hair twisted up into an elegant bun, her dress clean and without frays, her smile whole and undimmed. She was almost exactly the way Oliver remembered, so untouched by prison, except the madness in her eyes was more prominent than ever.

            “My silly little step-son.” She tsked. He noticed a dog walking at her side, a beautiful, Golden Retriever, wagging its tail like it didn’t have a care in the world. “You’re far from home. How hard it was to get you here. I’m sure you’re curious why I’ve chosen now to escape, when I could’ve used my magic to contact Malcolm here at any time.”

            Oliver huffed. “I’m about to become king. You can’t stand that, so you’re going to kill me. You’re predictable, my queen.”

            Oliver could still remember the day she’d tried to poison him—the way she’d stood over him as the darkness crept in, that cold, yet terribly amused, laugh she’d let out as she watched him die.

            That same laugh left her lips now. “Oh, Oliver. Why would I want you dead, when I can make you watch as I take away everything you’ve worked so hard for?”

            She stooped down next to her dog and removed the leash, to Oliver’s curiosity. “Do you know what kind of dog this is? It’s a magic dog.” The grin she gave him was sharp and deadly. “I hope you love dogs, Oliver. You’re going to spend the rest of your life as one.”

            With that, she released the dog, who rushed over to pounce on the prince. He wanted to scream as he felt his bones shrink and reform. His eyes started to dim and grow colorless. His ears moved and stretched, while his jaw elongated into a snout. Before Oliver could register what was happening, it was all over, and, instead of looking at a dog in front of him, he was staring up at himself.

            He had switched places with a dog.

            The Queen and Malcolm laughed hysterically as he barked and pawed at the ground. “Now, the 4th Kingdom will be ours.” He heard Malcolm say. “And I will have my daughter back.”

            Oliver growled, for real since he was a dog. Thea had found out that Malcolm was her real father a few years back, but never tried to form a relationship with him because of his banishment. If Malcolm thought that Oliver would let him get his hands on her, he had another thing coming. First, though, he had to get away from them.

            The two were so distracted with their scheming, they didn’t even notice Oliver eyeing the door until he was breaking out into a full run towards it.

            “AFTER HIM!” He heard the Queen ordering Malcolm. “DON’T LET HIM ESCAPE!”

            Footsteps followed closely behind him as he ran through the labyrinth under the prison. Every guard he passed was either unconscious or dead, explaining the lack of security. He ducked into a side corridor once he was far enough ahead of Malcolm and waited. When he heard footsteps pass him, he followed the corridor. It wasn’t until he got to the end that he realized he had a whole new set of problems.

            Had Malcolm released prisoners besides the Queen? Had the Queen released some? He wasn’t sure, but he skidded to a stop when a crazed, scarred man— _Scratch that_ , he thought once he saw the man’s eyes light up yellow, _Wolf. Crazed, scarred wolf—_ cut off his route.

            “I got him!” He called off to someone else. Oliver wasn’t about to find out who that was. He darted down a side corridor and down a small flight of stairs, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to lose a wolf in such a small space, especially now that he had his scent. The stairs led him to a basement the prison was using as a storage room…that had no other escape routes.

            A growl drew his attention to the doorway behind him. The wolf was crouched them, teeth bared. “Nowhere left to run, little doggie.”

            Another man appeared behind the wolf, this one definitely human. “Stop playing around, Mick, and grab him.” The man rolled his eyes. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to be here when the remaining staff decides to wake up.”

            Oliver backed away, trying to think of some way he could get away, when he ran straight into a pile of junk. The pile fell into another pile, which tipped something else over, which tumbled into something else, which finally knocked into a crappy mirror leaned against the wall.

            At least, that’s what he thought it was. Until the glass lit up, and the image changed.

            “What the hell—?” He heard the wolf grumble, but he was too distracted by the mirror. The image rippled, and some kind of forest appeared. A man moved across the glass, obviously lost in thought about something, and Oliver knew this was his chance to get help. Without another thought, he leapt into the mirror, towards the man he knew would help.

 

0000000

            Barry woke up to a throbbing headache. His forehead was warm and pulsing, and when he touched it…yep, that was blood. Great. When he opened his eyes, spots danced in front of his vision. He was still on the bike trail; by the look of things, he’d only been unconscious for a few minutes. A twitch of his leg told him that, while it was not broken, he’d definitely scratched it up badly on the trail.

What happened?

He pursed his lips, trying to remember what caused the accident. He’d been riding, lost in his own mind, when…

A whine nearby sent memories crashing into his brain. “Oh my god!” He cried out, stumbling painfully to his feet. In front of him, lying on his side, was a beautiful golden retriever. And Barry had hit him with his bike. He felt close to tears just thinking about it.

“Hey,” he whispered, kneeling down to stroke the animal’s fur. It must not have been too hurt, because the dog hopped up and stared Barry up and down, like it was assessing him. It made Barry shiver.

“Are you a stray?” Barry asked, scratching the dog’s neck. “Do you have a home?” The dog barked, and Barry smiled. “Well, I’m on my way to work, but you can follow me if you’d like.”

The dog barked again, almost like he was answering him, and Barry bent down to pick up his trashed bike. He limped down the trail again, cheering up when he noticed the dog trotting behind him.

By the time he made it to Jitters, he was half an hour late with the morning rush fizzing out. Iris and Kendra were bustling around the counter when he and his new friend walked in, both freezing when they saw the state he was in.

“Oh my god, Barry!” Iris exclaimed, running from behind the counter to look over her best friend/foster brother. “What happened?”

Barry sighed. “I crashed my bike cutting through the park, I think I lost my wallet on the trail somewhere, and I made a new friend.”

Beside him, the dog barked loudly. Iris practically melted. “Awww, he’s so precious! What’s his name?”

Barry shrugged, walking behind the counter to grab his apron. “I don’t know. He doesn’t have a collar or anything.”

Iris ruffled his fur and pressed a kiss to his head. “How about ‘Prince’? He seems like royalty to me.”

Barry looked down at the dog with a raised eyebrow. Shockingly, the name seemed to fit—the dog held himself in a regal way, almost like he was judging everyone in the coffee shop. He grinned. “Prince. I like it. What does he think?”

Almost like he was answering, the dog let out another bark. Iris laughed. “I think he likes it. What are you going to do with him?”

“Probably take him to the shelter after work. For now, though, I’ll probably just lock him in the backroom.”

Prince whimpered, giving Barry the biggest pout a dog could possibly give. Barry shook his head and led him into the back room, grabbing a small bowl on his way back and filling it with water. The backroom was small, but not so small that Prince wouldn’t be able to sit comfortably. The most worrying thing was how rickety the metal shelves holding the cleaning supplies were, but he doubted Prince would mess with it. “Okay.” Barry smiled. “You’ll only be back here for a few hours. If you need something, bark.”

He could have sworn the dog was glaring at him as he closed the door behind him and started his shift.

0000000

            Mick Rory didn’t get very many visitors. Being locked in solitary did that for you. The fact that his life and criminal partner, Leonard Snart, had been locked in the cell next door was the only comfort he really had as he paced around the dark cell.

            Really, locking a wolf away in a windowless room no bigger than six feet by six feet so that he can’t see and has nowhere to bound was cruel and unusual, even by prison standards. Probably had something to do with the constant prejudice against wolves. Assholes.

            So, when he heard footsteps clicking down the corridor, he couldn’t resist rushing to the barred window at his door. There was a female figure wandering through the halls, casting disinterested glances at each cell. Until she came to a stop outside of his.

            “What’s your name?”

            Mick gave the woman a once over. She was poised, dressed nicely, pretty. Definitely not the type of person he’d expect anywhere near the prison, much less outside of his door.

            “Don’t tell her anything!” He heard Len shout suddenly. The woman glanced to her left at his partner and smirked.

            “Little Leonard Snart. I must to admit, this is the last place I expected to find you.” Her voice was cold and unfeeling, yet there was also a hint of amusement. It gave Mick the creeps. “I suppose this one,” her eyes darted towards Mick, “is yours?”

            She approached his door and tilted her head. Mick felt naked all of a sudden, like this woman knew everything about him—his hopes and dreams, his fears, his weaknesses, all of it. He wanted to scurry back to the other side of his cell like a frightened pup, but the woman’s eyes held him in place.

            “Yes.” She said after half a minute. “You’ll do nicely. Both of you.”

She drew something out of the pocket of her fancy dress—the iron keys to the door. The moment the door swung open, Mick was out, running down the corridor some way to stretch his legs. Being free was _amazing_. When he ran back, he saw the woman had opened Len’s door, but the man still stood on the other side of the doorway, eyeing her suspiciously.

            “Whatever you want from us, you can forget about it.” Len growled. Mick was thrown somewhat off kilter by his tone—Len rarely lost his cool, rarely showed as much emotion on his face as he showed looking at this woman.

            The woman laughed. “Really, Leonard. I thought you’d leap at the chance of freedom. I know your friend will.”

            They both looked over at Mick, who frowned. “What’s going on?”

            “I have a task for the two of you.” She explained. “I’ve turned Prince Oliver into a dog.”

Mick growled at the mention of the prince. He hated Prince Oliver. To be the descendant of such a great queen, he was a piss-poor royal. It was because of him that, whenever he and Len were in the 4th Kingdom, he had to hide his wolfness. Wolves were seen as bloodthirsty monsters to people like Prince Oliver, and he’d passed an open call to all hunters to prove it. If this woman wanted to bring him down, he was onboard.

            “Whatever you want, if it hurts that spoiled asshole, I’ll do it. I’m your wolf.” He growled, clenching and unclenching his fists in preparation. Len looked like he was ready to punch him in the head, but the woman smiled knowingly.

            “Your loyalty to the cause is accepted, Mr. Rory.” She turned back to Len. “Mr. Snart? If you don’t wish to pledge yourself to me, surely you’ll stick beside your friend?”

            She said it like a question, but Mick could tell she wasn’t offering Len a way out. She knew he’d stay beside him. Mick was starting to feel like he’d manipulated. Len glared—full-on hate glared—at the woman, before doing something he never thought he’d do. He _bowed_ to the woman.

            “What do you require of us, _my queen_?” He said it through gritted teeth, like it physically pained him. Which now Mick realized it probably did.

            “You both will track down Prince Oliver and bring him to me before Malcolm Merlyn does.” The fucking _Queen_ ordered. She walked away without another word, probably eager to leave before her escape was discovered.

Mick didn’t know.

Honestly, he didn’t care.

Because he’d just sold his and Len’s services to the woman that assisted in ruining Len’s childhood. And, most likely, if they didn’t succeed, she’d have them killed. Probably horribly and in front of one another.

They had no choice at this point. Mick sniffed the air for the smell of dog. They had a prince to track down.

0000000

It was towards the end of Barry’s shift when the weirdness started happening. First, while he was making small talk with some regulars he was delivering coffees to, a loud crash from the backroom drew his attention.

“Excuse me.” He apologized. He rushed to the back of the store and threw open the door, only to find the metal shelf tipped over and powder cleaner all over the floor. Barry’s heart nearly stopped. Traced into the white powder in block letters was one word.

BEWARE

His eyes found Prince, who was sitting right beside the words, watching Barry with interest. He let out a shaky breath. “This is Iris messing with me, isn’t it?”

The dog barked.

 _That dog didn’t just…_ “Did you just respond to me?” Barry asked, his voice barely above a whisper. He didn’t know if he was going crazy thinking that the dog could understand him, much less answer, but then…

Prince barked again, and Barry choked on air. “Bark once.” Prince did. _That doesn’t prove anything, Barry_ he reminded himself. _Dogs do just bark sometimes._

“Bark twice.”

He nearly jumped out of his skin when the dog did. Okay, so he had a dog that understood him and could read/write English. He looked over the words again and frowned.

“Who’s in danger? You and me?” Prince barked again, only this time, it was accompanied by a head nod. Barry was losing his mind. “From who?”

A commotion outside the door was the next strange thing. Barry cracked open the door, barely able to see the front counter from his position, but he could make out two figures, both male, standing at the counter. One of them was practically leaning across into Kendra’s personal space.

“What do you mean you don’t sell meat? I’m starving!”

“I’m sorry, sir.” Kendra responded, keeping an even tone in an attempt to keep the situation from escalating. “All we have is coffee and pastries. There is a sandwich shop across the street though.”

The man growled—like seriously, _growled like an animal_ —and moved away from the counter. “Forget it.” The other man stepped up to the counter, this one much calmer.

 “Forgive my friend here.” The second man drawled, a charming smile appearing on his face. “We’ve been out all day searching for our lost dog, and he’s gotten himself all worked up over it.”

Barry held his breath and looked down at Prince. If it were possible for a dog to look worried, he did.

“Did you say dog?” Iris’ voice brought Barry’s attention back to the two men, and he knew that she unknowingly was about to rat him out.

“We need to get out of here.” Barry whispered, opening the door a little wider. Luckily, there was a door leading to the back alley a few feet from the backroom door. With Kendra and Iris distracted by the men at the counter, he was easily able to sneak out, the dog following close at his heels. The moment he was outside, he broke into a run, not stopping until he reached the bus stop.

“What is all this?” He asked, knowing Prince couldn’t answer the way he wanted. “What have you dragged me into?”

0000000

Apparently, during his accident, Barry had lost his wallet; meaning that he and Prince were forced to hoof it back home. The entire walk, Prince stayed quiet, to the point where Barry thought that maybe he’d overreacted to everything that was going on. Maybe he was all worked up over nothing. 

He made it back home without incident, which shouldn’t have been as surprising as it was. Joe’s car was still gone from the curb, meaning he was at work still, so at least Barry wouldn’t have to come up with a lie about why he was home so early. The minute he walked in, he felt like something was off; he glanced around the living room for some sign of intrusion, but everything was where it should’ve been.

Then, he realized that he’d just walked in—the door hadn’t been locked. He was absolutely certain he’d locked it when he left, and Joe would’ve remembered to lock it if he’d come home during the day. Prince had obviously picked up on his concern, because the dog darted into the small hallway beside the stairs.

Barry frowned. “Hello?” _Way to be a horror movie stereotype, Allen._ He sighed mentally as he moved further into the house. He didn’t expect a hooded man in black to step out of the kitchen, an arrow-notched bow in hand and aimed directly at him.

“Hello there, Mr. Allen.” The man lowered his weapon and removed his hood, revealing him to be a very handsome older man with jet black hair and a wicked gleam in his eye. He reached into one of the pockets in his ninja outfit and pulled a piece of square leather out. Barry’s wallet. “I believe you lost this. But I also think you found something.”

The man began approaching him slowly, and Barry swallowed hard, his feet frozen in fear of the man. “Found something?”

“Nothing of any real value.” The man smirked. “Just a dog I’ve been searching for.”

Barry resisted the urge to look over at where Prince was hiding. He didn’t know what the deal with the dog was, but the man in front of him didn’t seem like the sort of person he should trust. He put on his most innocent face and shrugged. “I don’t know where he is. I hit a dog on my way to work this morning, but he ran off into the park. He could be anywhere in Central by now.”

The man stared at him for a moment before sighing. “Oliver sent you a message somehow, didn’t he? He’s bright, even as a dog. You see, this would all be so much easier on both me and you if he hadn’t done that.” Before Barry could blink, the man grabbed him by his collar and practically threw him against the closest wall. There was a sword now in his hand that he held at Barry’s throat, and Barry had no doubt that the man would use it.

“Do you know who I am?” The man hissed, pressing the edge of the blade harder against his throat. “I am Malcolm Merlyn, King of Assassins, Ruler of the 3rd Kingdom, and feared throughout the 9 Kingdoms. People tremble when I pass by, the Queen herself allied with me because she knew no one else would be as dedicated as I to conquering the 4th Kingdom and destroying the House of White forever. Do you truly believe you can lie to me?”

Honestly, everything _Malcolm Merlyn_ had just told him sounded completely nuts. Kingdoms? House of White? The Queen?

Of course, Barry had been entertaining the notion that a dog could understand him not twenty minutes ago, so anything was really possible. Whatever this dog—Oliver? —had gotten him into sounded like serious business. He may not have known the dog long, but he did know that Merlyn wanted to hurt people. And Barry couldn’t let that happen.

So, when Malcolm Merlyn pressed forward again, Barry held up his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright! I’ll tell you where he is!”

His mind darted to different ways he could get away from the man, but only one seemed plausible. “He’s…he’s hiding upstairs. He ran up there not long after we walked in.”

Maybe Barry was getting better at lying, or maybe Malcolm Merlyn was just too eager to catch Oliver, but a wicked grin grew on his face. He pulled Barry away from the wall and pointed the sword to his back.

“Take me to him, and if you’re lying, you will die painfully.”

Barry nodded and led him up the staircase, hoping that Oliver didn’t decide to jump out from his hiding place or make noise before he could do what he planned. Merlyn’s sword dug sharply into him as they climbed the stairs, threatening to slice through both fabric and skin. Barry stopped once they reached the top.

“He’s probably hiding in there.” He pointed to the open panic room. “It’s the safest place in the house.”

God, he hoped that this guy didn’t know what a panic room was, otherwise his plan would be over quicker than a flash.

But Merlyn put his sword away, obviously unaware, and grabbed Barry’s arm. The two walked over to the open door and entered. The room was almost bare—Joe hadn’t had much money after installing it to really add a lot of amenities. There were a couple of chairs, a few boxes with about a week’s worth of food inside each one, a fire extinguisher by the door, and an empty gun locker. The hand on Barry’s arm tightened.

“Where is he?!” He shouted throwing Barry back.

Barry shook his head frantically as the man drew his sword again. “I…I don’t know. He should’ve been in here. Maybe…” He thought hard for some reason for him to walk out of the room. “Maybe he’s behind the secret door!”

_Really, Barry? Secret door?_

But Merlyn seemed to calm down slightly, which Barry counted as a win. “What door?”

“There’s a button on the wall.” He nodded towards the door. “And, if I push it, a door is going to open at the back. He’s probably in there.”

“If you’re trying to trick me…”

“I’m not!” Barry swore, backing towards the door. He stepped over the threshold. “I just need to push this button.” He quickly hit the button on the inside wall, and the door began to swing closed. Seeing what Barry was planning, Merlyn rushed at for the door, but Barry picked up the fire extinguisher and brought it down hard on his head before he could make it out the door.

Barry darted out of the way just as the door slammed closed, locking Malcolm Merlyn, King of the Assassins, inside.

He ran back downstairs where Oliver was waiting for him and grabbed his backpack and coat. “We need to go now.” He told the dog. “Joe and Iris will be fine—he can’t get out, and it’s you he’s after.”

They ran out the door, Barry knowing only one place they could go where they’d be safe.

000000

Joe West was a police officer. For him, it wasn’t just a profession, it was a lifestyle. He protected Central the same way he protected his children. He observed everything, made note of almost everything he encountered. Most of all, he followed his gut.

Which is why, the minute he stepped into his house, he knew that something was wrong.

He paused in his doorway. At first glance, there was nothing out of place. There was no sign that Barry or Iris had decided to come home early. There was no sign of anything out of the ordinary. His gut disagreed. 

With one hand on his gun, he slowly moved into the house, his eyes scanning every inch of the room. He’d started to think he’d gone crazy, until he spotted an empty picture frame on one of the side tables next to the sofa. He frowned, trying to remember what it’d been a picture of.

Barry. It was a picture he’d taken of Barry and Henry at Barry’s college graduation dinner. He moved through the rest of the house, finding nothing else missing. Why would someone break into his house just to steal a picture of his son? He walked through the upper level of the house, searching for any other signs of disturbance. What he found was in the most unlikely place—his panic room.

In fact, there were definite signs of disturbance in the panic room—the walls were covered in what looked like knife or sword marks, there were broken arrows on the floor, the console that controlled the door from the inside was ripped open with the wires sliced. Someone had clearly been trapped in here while he was gone. That’s when he noticed the coin on the ground.

It was about the size of a silver dollar, laying in the far corner of the room like whoever had been in here had dropped it in their rush to leave, and it’d rolled away. There was writing on it, small, but Joe wasn’t so old that his eyes were failing him quite yet.

If the heart is pure in you; Your hopes and dreams surely can come true.

            Joe frowned. What kind of crap—?

            “Dad? Barry?”

            Iris’ voice pulled him from his musings. He pocketed the coin, making a note to check it out later, and headed downstairs to his daughter. “Hey, sweetheart.” He pulled her into a hug and kissed the top of her head. “Have you seen Barry?”

            Iris shook her head. “Not since he left work early. He probably went to Henry’s. He got in an accident on the way to work this morning.”

            Joe’s eyes widened in shock. “Why am I just hearing about this now?”

            “He just hit a dog, Dad, and he said he was fine.” Iris moved around him to lay her bag and coat on the sofa. “The weirdest thing, though. There were these guys at Jitters right around the time Barry left looking for the dog, and, let me tell you, one of them was practically rabid. I thought we were going to have to call someone until his friend stepped in and explained that they’d been out all day searching for the dog, and crazy guy hadn’t eaten all day.”

            Joe followed her into the kitchen to hear the rest of her day while she grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. “Then, I told them that Barry found the dog, and they started getting really interested in him. It was weird.”

            Joe tensed, thinking about the missing picture of Barry. “You didn’t tell them where we lived, did you?”

            Iris raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “Yes, Dad. I also told them my social security number, and all of the isolated places on my route home. No, I said that they’d have to come back tomorrow if they wanted to talk to Barry about the dog.”

            That was a comfort at least. It still didn’t explain what all had gone down in his house while everyone was gone. He reached into his pocket and rubbed his thumb over the face of the coin.

            His gut instinct that something was wrong still hadn’t gone away.

0000000

            Barry and Oliver trudged through downtown, towards a familiar apartment complex. It’d been a few weeks since he’d walked this route, but every time, he felt like a little kid walking home from school. He hurried inside, not sure if Malcolm Merlyn brought anyone with him that could be watching, and climbed the five flights of stairs to apartment 5F.

            Oliver barked at him before he could knock.

            “Don’t worry.” Barry reassured him. “This is a safe place. You can trust him.”

            He knocked twice before a shout echoed through the door and footsteps were heard through the apartment. When the door opened, Barry was met with a very confused, but overjoyed Henry Allen.

            “Barry!” His father threw his arms around him like he hadn’t seen him in years, which Barry was used to. When they pulled apart, he motioned for Barry to come in, smiling wider when he noticed Oliver. “Who’s your new friend?”

            He shut the door behind them before kneeling down to scratch Oliver behind his ear. This seemed like enough to earn the dog’s trust, his tail wagging happily. Barry laughed.

            “This is Oliver. I hit him with my bike on my way to work this morning, and he’s been following me ever since.”

            “Well,” Henry rose to his feet. “He’s certainly welcome here. And you both came at the right time. I just finished making dinner, and I always make a little extra.”

            Barry followed him down the long hall, past the guest bedroom that he stayed in sometimes when he came by, and up the small stairs to the landing with three doors: Henry’s room, the living room, and the kitchen/dining room. The minute Henry opened the kitchen door, Oliver rushed in.

            “He sure is hungry.” Henry chuckled, walking over to prepare two plates while Barry took a seat at the table.

            “I had to work, so I didn’t exactly get to feed him.” Barry explained, his mouth watering when he saw the steaks and vegetables his dad had cooked. “I don’t really know when he ate last.”

            Henry nodded, chopping up a bit of steak and placing it on the floor for Oliver, along with a bowl of water. He took a seat across from his son with a distant expression that Barry knew only came from him remembering his mother.

            “Sometimes it just hits me, how much you remind me of Nora.” He said. A guilty look came on his face, but Barry shook his head.

            “Dad, you can talk about Mom. Seriously, she’s been dead for eighteen years, and I know you miss her.”

            Henry sighed and turned his attention to his food. “I just…you’re so much like her, Barry. When she was your age, she was kind, willing to give the shirt off her back to make people happy. She was a gleam of sunshine in my life.”

            Barry nodded. “I know, Dad. I miss her, too.” He noticed the tears threatening to fall in his father’s eyes, but pretended not to. Instead, he focused on how great his steak was. After a few minutes, Henry spoke up again.

            “So, what brings you by? I mean, besides spending quality time with your old man.”

            Right. Barry forgot that his father would probably want an explanation as to why he was there out of the blue. He couldn’t exactly tell him the truth— _well, Dad, I think that this dog isn’t really a dog, and some crazy guy that called himself King of the 3rd Kingdom…no, I don’t know what that is…but he threatened to kill me if I didn’t give him Oliver, so I locked him in Joe’s panic room, and now I’m kind of fearing for my life._ So, he tried to play it cool and shrugged.

            “I was wondering if I could spend the night tonight. I have an interview for a job a few blocks away, and I don’t want to be late and make a bad impression.”

            Luckily, his dad seemed to buy his lie. “Sure, slugger. Do you need me to set an alarm for you?”

            Barry shook his head. “Nah, but maybe we could have breakfast together in the morning?”

            Henry’s joy returned at the mention of spending more time with his son. “Sounds like a plan, Bare.”

            They ate the rest of their dinner with more small talk than anything—Barry talking about his job , severely downplaying his frustration; Henry talking about the small clinic he’d been volunteering at when he wasn’t working at the hospital. It was nice. Moments with his father made him feel like he was eight again, and they were a family again.

            When it was time for bed, Oliver followed him onto the cotton sheets and curled up at his side, and Barry wondered what kind of horrors he’d seen, and where he came from.

0000000

            Finding the kid hadn’t been near as difficult as Mick thought it would’ve been. After they followed the kid, _Barry Allen_ ’s scent to his house, Len picked the lock with minor difficulty; hearing Malcolm Merlyn yelling and fighting upstairs wherever the kid had apparently trapped him was an added treat. From there, it was easy to find a picture of the kid—after all, they needed to know what their mark looked like and _damn_ , did he not look as delicious as he smelled—and something that had his direct scent on it. Then, Mick followed his nose.

When they approached Prince Oliver’s new hiding place, the sun was barely peaking over the horizon. Mick didn’t even have to search for Barry Allen’s scent anymore. It was fresh, less than 12 hours old. It made the wolf shiver in anticipation. God, that kid smelled amazing. He’d never smelled anything quite as overwhelmingly delicious.

            “How are we doing this, Snart?” He asked, his voice taking on a slight growl. He was ready. He was _sooo_ ready.

            Len’s brow knitted in thought when he noticed the peephole in the door. “Like that woodcarver job.” Mick nodded in understanding, and moved to stand against the wall beside the door. Once he was in position, Len knocked.

            There was rustling inside of the apartment, and the sounds of someone approaching the door. One sniff told Mick it wasn’t the kid. It was someone similar, probably his father, but his scent wasn’t as enticing.

            “Who’s there?” A voice called through the door. Len put on his most innocent and convincing face.

            “I was looking for a Barry Allen.” Len held the picture of Barry that they’d jacked from his house up to the peephole in the door. “I was told by his foster family that he could be found here.”

            There was a pause. “What do you want with Barry?”

            “He found my dog yesterday. I’d just like to get him back.”

            There were a few seconds of silence before they heard a series of locks opening. Mick smirked; easy as pie.

            As soon as the door opened, Mick stepped into the man’s eye line, and, before he could scream for help or shut the door again, he brought his fist down on his head, knocking the man to the ground. The two grabbed him by his arms and legs and carried him into the apparently before anyone decided to open their doors and see who was standing in the hall.

            Mick took the lead, taking them into the apartment, past the door that he _knew_ Barry Allen was behind, and into the room he loved more than anything else—the kitchen. Len rolled his eyes.

            “Mick, enough thinking with your stomach.” He hissed. “We have a job to do. Find the kid, get the dog, return it to the Queen so she gives us our freedom and gets off our backs.”

            Mick gave a small growl. “Just a bit of fun, Snart. We’ve been locked up for months.”

            He stared at Len in that way he knew his partner couldn’t resist, though Len put up one hell of a fight. “Fine.” He sighed. “But only ten minutes. We don’t know when this _Barry_ is going to wake up.”

            Mick’s inner beast flared, and he went to work searching for rope.

0000000

            Barry woke up not long after the sun started shining through his window. He hadn’t slept too well—his worries about Oliver, Malcolm Merlyn, and what it could all mean keeping him awake deep into the night. He stretched as he sat up, careful not to jostle Oliver too badly, who seemed to sleep like the dead, and headed for the closet to grab his red housecoat. His dad had promised breakfast, and he didn’t want to sleep through that.

            “Dad?” He called as he opened the door. He thought he heard the sound of hurried, quiet footsteps near the kitchen and frowned. Maybe his dad was trying to be sneaky with breakfast? But that wouldn’t make sense. He climbed the stairs towards the kitchen, calling for his dad once again.

             A muffled sound from his dad’s room drew his attention. He stepped away from the kitchen door, and turned towards Henry’s room.

            “Hey, Dad?” Barry pushed open the door with a frown. “Dad, are you okay?”

            The man-shaped lump curled up on his father’s bed moaned. _Must have the flu or something_ , Barry thought as he stepped closer. “Are you not feeling well?” He asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. His dad moaned again. _He must really be sick_ ¸ Barry observed, seeing the way the blankets were pulled up over his head. _Maybe he has a migraine or something._ “Do you want me to bring you something?”

            He reached up and pulled down the blanket. A scarred hand shot out from underneath the blanket to grab his arm, and, suddenly, he was falling backwards on the bed, being stared down by someone that most definitely was _not_ Henry Allen. “Surprise!” The man announced, a maniac grin splitting his face.

            Barry screamed and fought against the hold on his arm, but the man was much stronger than him. The man leaned in to his neck, and Barry grimaced, worried about whatever the man was planning. But, to Barry’s shock, he just inhaled deeply.

            “You smell fantastic.” He withdrew with a leer, and Barry took the opportunity to knee the man in the stomach. Barry made a run for the door while the man was doubled over, only to have his way blocked by another man. This one seemed calmer, less maniac than the other, but no less dangerous. He slammed the bedroom door closed with a smirk.

            “Sorry, kid. You’re not going anywhere.”

            Barry scanned the room looking for another way out, but the first man had already recovered and was now blocking his way to the window. Plus, he wasn’t a fan of the five story drop below. Barry swallowed hard.

            “What do you want?” He demanded, trying not to sound as scared as he was. From the smirk on both men’s faces, it didn’t work.

            “Calm down, kid.” The second man chuckled. “We just want the dog.”

            “Although…” The first man leaned in towards Barry to take another sniff, which he flinched away from. “So much better in person than those little trickles of your scent I’ve been picking up around town.” The man took another step towards Barry, who jumped back.

            “Stay back!” He warned, not knowing what he’d do if the man stepped closer, but knowing that he definitely didn’t want him any closer. The man stopped advancing, but his predatory expression didn’t change.

            “Remember the mission, Mick.” The other man drawled, raising an eyebrow.  

            “I’m just saying, Len,” Mick growled. “He smells better than Sunday lunch.”

            Len rolled his eyes, and Barry saw his chance.

            While the two were distracted with each other, he made a dash for the door. Len almost caught him, but a quick kick to the shin bought Barry enough time to yank open the door and run from the room. The men followed him out, cursing as they went. Mick was out the door first, and Barry darted for the front door. It was locked, and Barry didn’t have time to undo the six extra locks his dad had in place because “the city is a dangerous place, Bare”. He did a quick search for a weapon, finding only the broom leaned beside the door. With a glance at the open hall window, Barry thought up a plan. When Mick came down the hall, he held the broom in front of him like a sword.

            “Stay back!” He repeated. The man had done so the last time, and now, he had something he could make good on his threats with. Mick, however, didn’t seem to take the threat seriously.

            “If it makes you feel better,” He grinned wolfishly, “I’m not going to eat you.”

            Barry stared at him in confusion. He hadn’t been worried about that, but now… He raised the broom a little higher. “I said, stay back!”

            The sound of Len’s hurried footsteps drew Mick’s attention, giving Barry a chance to take a swing at the man’s head. Mick certainly hadn’t been expecting the hit. The broom knocked him against the window sill. Barry brought it around again, this time knocking the man out the window completely.

            Len walked up just in time to see his friend fall, head first, out of the hall window. Barry pointed the broom at him now, and he held his hands up in surrender.

            “Look, kid.” The criminal reasoned. “All we want is the dog.”

            Barry snorted, but the serious look on the man’s face made him listen to what he was saying. “You don’t want to be involved in all of this. You don’t know what you’re being pulled into here.” Len continued. “That dog is nothing but trouble. If we don’t take him with us, other people are going to come looking for him. Bad people. People a lot worse than us.”

            Barry raised an eyebrow. “If you’re talking about that douche that broke into my house, I’ve already taken care of him.” He pointed the broom at his face. “Now, you can either leave through the front door, or the way your friend did. Your choice.”

            Len moved towards the front door. “We won’t be the last ones after that dog. Someone very powerful and very dangerous wants him. And she will stop at nothing until she gets him.”

            Barry gripped his broom tighter. “I think I’ll take my chances.”

            Len shrugged, making quick work of the locks and stepping out the door. “See you around, Barry Allen.”

            Barry scowled as the door closed behind the man with a click. He hoped not. He ran through the apartment to find his dad, but it didn’t take long. When he stepped into the kitchen, he was horrified at the sight of his dad, sitting tied up in the table with an apple in his mouth.

0000000

            When Len found Mick, he was climbing out of a dumpster, his eyes continuously darting up at the window he’d fallen from. “I think I’m in love.” The wolf growled.

            Len rolled his eyes. “We’re after the dog, Mick, not the kid.”

            “I could get sidetracked.”

            Len decided not to dignify that with a response. “We need a plan on how to catch the prince, especially now that we’ve lost the element of surprise.” 

            Mick chuckled. “As long as I get to smell that little lamb again, I’m in.”

            The two exited the alley quickly, Len remembering that, just because they were in another world, didn’t mean that there wasn’t law enforcement. And Len didn’t just escape one prison, just to fall into another.

            They had to catch the prince—he didn’t want to even _think_ about what the Queen would do if they didn’t bring him back.

            “What’s the plan, boss?” Mick asked, following in step with him. Len pursed his lips in thought.

            “Prince Oliver is many things, but he’d never abandon his kingdom. Not even to the Queen. So, we head for the portal, lay low, and wait for him and our new friend, Barry, to come to us.”

            Mick raised an eyebrow. “You know that, if he gets out of whatever the kid did, Merlyn will have similar ideas.”

            Len snorted. Merlyn could try. “We’ll just have to beat him to it.”

0000000

            The next morning, when Iris woke up, she could feel that something wasn’t right. She checked her clock to make sure she didn’t sleep in, but she still had hours before she had to be at work. Lost in thought, she climbed out of bed and got dressed, her mind darting over all of the possibilities of what could be wrong. When she walked downstairs, she had her answer.

            Barry still wasn’t home.

            It wasn’t unheard of for Barry to go to his dad’s apartment when he was stressed or upset and spend the night, nor was it unusual for him to stay late into the morning, but he always called either Iris or her father to let them know he was okay. One look at her phone told her that wouldn’t be the case today.

            Her dad was in the kitchen drinking coffee when she walked in. He frowned. “Something up?”

            “It’s Barry.” Iris sighed, grabbing some bread to pop into the toaster. “I haven’t heard from him since he left work yesterday. I’m getting worried about him.”

            From the look on his face, her dad was thinking the same thing. Especially after the break-in.

            “Well,” He decided, “if we don’t hear from him by noon, we’ll go by Henry’s and make sure everything’s alright.”

            A bit of Iris’ anxiety lowered. She was probably overreacting anyway. Barry was probably fine. She nearly jumped out of her skin when her cellphone rang.

            When she saw Barry’s name flash on her screen, she didn’t hesitate to answer it and put it on speaker.

            “Hello? Barry?”

            There was a pause on the other end. _“Iris?”_ Barry sounded breathless and panicked. Her anxiety came back stronger.

            “Barry, are you alright?” She asked, sharing a fearful look with her father.

            _“Umm…yeah, I’m alright. Just a bit freaked. There were these two guys that…never mind. Just…ummm…I need to talk to you about something in person. No one else would believe me.”_

Iris was almost panicking herself now. “Of course. Do you want to meet at Jitters in an hour?”

            _“No, not Jitters. Uhhh, meet me at the edge of the park closest to downtown in an hour.”_ There was barking in the background. _“Shhh, Oliver. It’s fine.”_

“I’ll meet you there.” Iris promised.

            _“Be careful, Iris._ ” Barry warned. _“Don’t tell anyone where you’re going and make sure you aren’t followed.”_

With that, Barry hung up, leaving his foster family completely confused. What in the world had Barry gotten involved in?

0000000

                        It’d taken nearly forty-five minutes for Barry to calm his dad down after untying him. Apparently, the larger man, Mick, was the one that’d tied him up, taunting that he was going to put him in the oven and eat him. Which would’ve been a lot stranger 48 hours ago. Now, however, Barry was somewhat adjusted to the weird stuff surrounding Oliver. The first chance he got, he slipped out of his dad’s apartment with Oliver and down the street towards the park.

            He called Iris, knowing he had to tell someone about what was going on, and since Oliver couldn’t exactly talk, Iris was the least likely person to think he was losing his mind. He paced back and forth for an hour waiting for her to show with Oliver laying down beside him, his mind running over everything he would say.

            Maybe he should just leave Oliver where he found him. He halted his pacing, genuinely giving it some thought. Maybe Oliver would be okay on his own? He knew he’d be better without Oliver around.

            He shook the thought away. Oliver needed him. How could he turn down someone in need?

            He was dragged from his thoughts when he heard footsteps approaching. Iris waved when she spotted him, Joe directly behind her. Oh, god. That made things more difficult.

            “You brought Joe?” He asked once she was within earshot, his eyes darting over to his foster dad. Not that he minded Joe being there, but his situation was hard enough to explain to just Iris.

            “Chill. He was with me when you called, and no one followed us.” Iris explained, stopping in front of him.

            Joe fixed him with a glare. “You have a lot of explaining to do. Like why so many people are after that dog” he pointed an accusing finger at Oliver, who barked in response, “and who broke out of my panic room?”

            Barry froze in place. “He _broke out?_ ” He turned in a circle, searching the woods around them. If Malcolm Merlyn was as good as he’d bragged when he was threatening him, they all could’ve been in trouble right then.

            “Yeah, and whoever ‘he’ is left this behind.” Joe pulled what looked like a silver dollar out of his pocket. “Any explanation?”

            Barry sighed. He knew that Joe and Iris needed the truth, but he wasn’t sure Joe would _believe_ the truth. He needed to explain it tactfully. “I don’t think this dog is a dog.” Nice one, Barry.

            Joe’s glare transformed into a mixture of disbelief and disapproval. “Barry Allen, I swear to God…”

            “I’m serious!” Barry argued. “First, this guy attacked me at the house, saying he was the king of some kingdom, and he wanted Oliver, the dog. Then, I went to my dad’s house, and these two guys broke in, one of them tried to eat my dad, and they said that they wanted Oliver. That’s not to mention the weird things he does, like write me messages and respond to me when I ask questions.”

            Joe scoffed and shook his head. “Bare, dogs don’t talk! Those people were just a bunch of whackjobs that you should’ve called the police on! That dog is just a dog!”

            He knew Joe wouldn’t believe. Joe was a skeptic—he never believed Barry about the impossible. Usually, Barry just brushed it off as who Joe was. This time, though, it was too much. He grabbed Joe by the arm.

            “I’m telling you, Oliver isn’t a dog! I wish that, for once, you’d believe me!”

            “And I wish that, for once, you’d could see things for what they are!”

            At their words, the coin in Joe’s hand glowed purple, and Joe dropped it to the ground with it started steaming. After about a minute, the glowing died down, and the coin disappeared. They all stood in silence, staring at where the coin had fallen for about a minute, until Iris let out a whistle.

            “What…was that?”

            _“That was a wishing coin.”_ Barry and Joe both jumped at the voice, searching around for the source. _“Malcolm probably dropped it when he broke out. They’re incredibly rare, not something he’d part with willingly.”_

Iris frowned, looking between Joe and Barry worriedly. “Are you two okay?”

            “You didn’t hear that?” Joe asked, eyes still scanning the trees.

            It took Barry a second to realize what had happened, what the coin had done. His eyes locked on Oliver sitting at his feet, looking up at him expectantly. “Oliver…” He said slowly. “Did you just talk?”

            Now Joe was also staring at the dog, who practically rolled his eyes. _“Yes. I’ve been talking the whole time; you just couldn’t understand me before.”_ Oliver answered in a snooty voice. _“Since both of you were in contact with the coin when you made your wishes, the coin compensated by granted both at the same time, just in different ways than you expected. Now, we need to get going before Malcolm catches up with us. He’s one of the best trackers in the 9 Kingdoms, rivaled only by the Queen’s Huntsman. If he finds us, we’re all in trouble.”_

The golden retriever trotted deeper into the forest, clearly expecting them to follow. Barry shrugged and jogged to catch up to him, knowing that Joe would probably follow after he broke out of his daze, with Iris.

            “What are we doing out here, Oliver?” Barry asked, falling in step with the dog.

            _“Where I came in to this world. It’s the other side of a travelling mirror, but it won’t look like a mirror. Try to find a section of forest that doesn’t blend in right.”_

            Barry yelled back Oliver’s instructions to Iris and Joe, who were just now catching up.

            _“It was somewhere…”_ Oliver muttered, sniffing the ground and scanning the trees. _“There!”_

Barry skidded to a stop. In front of them was what at first looked like a regular grove of trees. When they got closer, however, he could see the image of the trees was distorted, like a reflection on the ocean. He glanced over at Joe and Iris, who stared slack-jawed at the portal.

            “What…is that?” Iris asked, clearly shocked.

            _“It’s how I got here.”_

            “This is what the dog is looking for.” Joe translated. Then, he frowned. “Wait a minute. If this is the only way to and from your world, this is how all of those people looking for you came through too, right?”

            Barry went ridged when he realized where Joe was going with this. “So, not only do they know where it is, but they know that you have to come here to go back to your world.” He finished Joe’s thought. Oliver obviously hadn’t thought of that, if the way his head started darting around was any tell.

            “We need to leave.” Joe decided. He moved to lead them off when a black arrow struck the tree directly beside him. Barry looked back to see a black hooded figure running towards them.

            “It’s Malcolm Merlyn!” He turned to run in the other direction, only to see two more familiar faces heading their way. Mick and Len weren’t as close as Malcolm, but they were definitely gaining. No matter which way Barry and his family went, they’d get caught. There was only one choice.

            Clearly, Oliver saw it too. _“Follow me!”_ He ordered as he jumped into the portal. Joe and Iris shared a look with Barry that said ‘are we really following the dog?’.

            To which the answer was yes.

            Yes, they were.

            He grabbed his foster father and sister by the hand and pulled them towards the portal just as Malcolm fired yet another arrow in their direction.

0000000

            Travelling by mirror was a strange sensation. There was a pull to your core, like a thread through your bellybutton, and suddenly, you were being dragged forward through a vortex of what felt like a thousand mirrors. The mirrors moved by fast, then even faster and faster until you can’t breathe, you can’t move, you can’t do anything except hope that it’ll be over soon. Then, if you’re Joe West, you’ll be standing in a stone basement full of junk with your kids and a talking dog.

            Before he could focus too much on it, though, the dog was trotting out of the room, pausing only once to make sure they were all following. _“Malcolm and the others are going to catch up if you three don’t hurry up.”_ He snarked at them. Joe raised an eyebrow at Barry, who shrugged and followed the dog out the door.

            The dog led them through corridors and stone staircases, until Joe recognized the tell-tale signs that they were in a prison. When they came to what appeared to be a Mess Hall, the dog stopped. There were people littered all around the floor, some unconscious, some not so lucky.

            “Oh my god,” Iris gasped, “what happened to everyone?”

            _“The same thing that almost happened to Barry at your house, and the same thing that will happen to all of us if Malcolm Merlyn catches us. He isn’t the King of Assassins for nothing.”_

Joe translated to his daughter, who widened her eyes worriedly. Barry, on the other hand, was examining everything.

            “What is this place?”

            The dog sighed. _“Snow White Memorial Prison. It’s home to the most dangerous criminals in all the 9 Kingdoms.”_

Barry frowned. “9 Kingdoms…Merlyn mentioned that. What does it mean?”

            _“Here our land is split into what we call the 9 Kingdoms. I’m Prince Oliver Queen, grandson of the late queen, Snow White, and heir to the throne of the 4 th Kingdom.”_

Barry nodded. “That actually sort of makes sense.”

            Maybe to him, but to Joe, it all seemed like some sort of joke. Snow White? Kingdoms? A talking dog that’s actually a prince? Suddenly, the dog—Oliver—tensed up.

            _“Someone’s coming.”_ He announced. _“It smells like Malcolm.”_

They all ducked under one of the tables just in time as a man dressed in all black with a bow and quiver on his back and a sword in his belt entered the room. Joe knew a killer when he saw one, and this man was definitely a killer. Beside him, Barry froze, his face full of fear. Fatherly instinct kicking in, Joe wrapped a protective arm around his son.

            Once the man left, the four all climbed out from under the table. “Okay, ‘Prince Oliver’” Joe growled, crossing his arms over his chest. “You have five minutes to tell us what you’ve dragged Barry and all of us into.”

            The dog scurried across the floor towards a map that took over an entire wall of the mess hall. Instead of familiar places, though, the provinces were broken up into nine parts, each labeled with a number, 1-9. Towards the bottom of the 4th, almost in the 3rd, was a large red arrow with the words **YOU ARE IMPRISONED HERE**.

            The 9 Kingdoms.

            Iris and Barry both regarded the map with wonder, each running their fingers over the lines and letters.

            “Red Riding Hood Forest…” Barry pointed out towards the 2nd Kingdom. Iris laughed.

            “Look, Dwarf kingdom!” She smiled, pointing at the 9th.

            “As interesting as this is,” Joe interrupted, “this doesn’t really explain anything. So, we’re in a land filled with characters out of storybooks—Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, Cinderella…”

            _“Those women all lived over 200 years ago, in what we called the Golden Age,”_ Oliver explained. _“A time of happy ever after. But things have gone downhill since then, thanks to people like the Queen, my stepmother.”_

“Wait,” Barry frowned. “The Queen? Merlyn mentioned the Queen, that she was the one looking for you. Who is she?”

            _“She’s the most wicked woman you will ever meet.”_ Joe could hear fury in his voice. _“She murdered my mother, married my father, and then murdered him. Then, when I was fifteen, she tried to poison me. She’s the one that turned me into a dog, and she’ll do anything to get her revenge on me and my family, including kill anyone that gets in her way.”_

Joe swallowed hard, his eyes slipping over to stare at his children. Maybe following the talking dog hadn’t been the best plan.

0000000

            Barry and his family followed Oliver through the halls of the prison, stepping around the unconscious and dead guards lying around the floors. They tracked deeper and deeper, until they were down a hallway labelled MAXIMUM SECURITY.

            “Where are we going?” He asked, shivering the further down the hallway they walked. Directly across from them, at the end of the corridor, was an open cell door.

            _“The Queen’s cell.”_ Oliver answered, running inside. _“She may have left something behind telling us what her plan is, or where she’s going.”_

Joe raised an eyebrow as he stepped into the cell behind him. “Us? We—meaning Iris, Barry, and me—are going back through that mirror and back home. We aren’t involved in any of this, and my kids aren’t getting themselves killed.”

            Iris stepped inside with them, and Barry followed. The moment he stepped through the door, though, it was like all of the blood rushed from his head.

            “Barry?”

            He didn’t even realize that he was using the wall to hold himself up until Iris was in front of him, resting a hand on his cheek. “Barry, are you okay?”

            He squeezed his eyes closed and nodded, but then the room began to spin. “I’m…I don’t feel good.” He rested his head in his hands to steady his vision. “I think I need to step outside for a minute.”

            Joe nodded, watching his son worriedly. “Just stand outside the door, okay? We’re not staying here long.”

            Barry hmmm’d in acknowledgement as he practically tripped out the door. He leaned back against the wall beside the door and took a few deep breaths, trying to push away his nausea and dizziness. He focused on the voices in the cell to keep his mind off of it.

            _“That’s weird.”_ Oliver said. 

            “What?” Joe replied.

            _“It smells like Malcolm was here recently.”_

There was a shout from Iris from inside the cell, and the door slammed shut. When Barry opened his eyes, Malcolm Merlyn was right in front of him, blowing dust into his face.

0000000

            When Len and Mick landed back in the basement of the prison, Len could tell that Mick was close to getting sick. Magical travel always threw Mick off. They made their way carefully back up to the cell level, keeping an eye on all of the unconscious guards they passed.

            Len thought that their luck was holding out, until they reached the break off point between maximum security and gen-pop.

            A small squad of newly-awakened guards were running up the corridor towards them, calling for the alarm to sound.

            “Prisoner escape! Prisoner escape!”

            Len and Mick pressed themselves against the wall as far as they could to avoid being seen, but it wouldn’t last forever, and there were guards blocking their exit.

            “Lenny,” Mick whispered, edging closer towards the guards. “When you see an opening, _run._ ”

            Without another warning, Mick dove into the gaggle of guards, fighting them with all of his wolf ferocity and strength. Len knew that there was nothing he could do—Mick was going to get caught, and if he were to get caught too, there would be no chance of either of them getting out.

            He’d kill Mick for putting him in the position later. For now, he snuck as quickly and carefully past the guards as he could. Without even a glance back, because if he had, he never would’ve been able to leave Mick, he slipped away.

            The fresh air was euphoric. Even though he’d gotten a taste of it in the other world, there was nothing like the air of your home. He froze when he noticed movement on the riverbank. A figure in all black was carrying someone towards the boats.

            A closer look told him it was Malcolm Merlyn carrying an unconscious Barry Allen away from the prison, probably back to the 3rd Kingdom.

            An uneasy feeling settled in his gut. Barry wasn’t a bad kid. He didn’t ask to get involved with the Queen’s shit. The prince dragged him into it. The kid probably didn’t even know half of what was going on. He didn’t deserve whatever Malcolm Merlyn was going to do with him.

            Then again, when was the last time Len had been concerned about what other people deserved? He and Lisa hadn’t deserved the life they were given, yet here he was. Luckily, Lisa found a nice place and a nice boy to settle down with far away. Len carried the weight of their father’s crimes for both of them.

            He watched as Merlyn climbed into a boat and shoved off. It was now or never.

            “Damn it.” He growled, hurrying over to a small skiff. He’d follow Merlyn back to his castle, case the place, and then get the kid. Besides, he needed back-up to save Mick. Sure the kid didn’t look like much, but he’d taken down both Merlyn and Mick before. Something told Len there was more to him than met the eye.

0000000

Prince Oliver’s carriage—or, more accurately, the Queen’s carriage—pulled in front of a ramshackle, seemingly abandoned castle nearly ten miles from Snow White Memorial Prison. Servants ran from every direction, taking care of the horses, opening the carriage doors, rolling out a carpet. One servant held out a hand to help the Queen, while her Dog—how satisfying it was to say that when looking at Prince Oliver’s face— jumped out of the other door and ran inside excitedly on all fours. She sighed—they’d have to work on that.

            “Welcome home, your Majesty.” The servant helping her greeted, bowing lowly. It was good to have the loyalty of others.

            “Have the carriage concealed. We don’t want anyone knowing we’re here.” She ordered, moving swiftly into her castle. It was difficult not to get emotional, standing in the home left to her by her mistress. She could feel the power surging through the foundation, singing in her veins. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. It was good to be home.

            Her Dog Prince sat at the foot of the grand staircase, gazing up at the beautiful portrait displayed above in awe. When she approached, he turned his head.

            “Who is she?”

            The woman in the portrait was beautiful—rosy pink lips, flowing dark hair, a smile that said she knew every thought that crossed your mind and was thinking of a way to use it to her advantage. In her hand, she held a plump, lovely apple.

            How the Queen wished she’d known her mistress then, at the height of her power. “She’s the stepmother that poisoned Snow White, all those years ago. She was once the most powerful woman in all of the 9 kingdoms, and this was but one of her five castles.”

            The Dog whined. “What happened to her?”

            “When she was finally caught,” The Queen swallowed hard, trying not to get emotional, “the so-called ‘good people’ of these lands heated a pair of iron slippers and made her dance at Snow White’s wedding. She crawled out into the snow, dragging her raw, blistered, useless feet into a swamp nearby, this crippled woman who was once the fairest of them all.”

A swell of pride rose inside of the Queen. “But she kept her magic mirrors and searched for a successor. And that, of course was me.”

“I will finish her work.” She swore, looking to the painting the same way she’d once looked up to her mistress. “I will destroy the House of White, and everyone or everything they love. And pity the _fool_ that stands up to me!”

0000000

Barry’s head ached when he woke up. Everything was like smoke around him; moving quickly in wisps and blurs. When his mind finally settled, he wished it hadn’t.

            He was locked into a chair by his arms and legs in the center of a strange room. It was dark, lit only by a few torches around the stone walls, and in the corner was a bare podium. Behind him he could feel a breeze. He glanced back to see a shuttered window large enough that it probably was more of a balcony than a window.

            “Good, you’re awake.”

            Barry nearly jumped out of his skin. He scanned the room, searching for the origin of the voice. It wasn’t until his eyes fell on the doorway that the air around it shimmered, and Malcolm Merlyn appeared, dressed exactly as he had been back at Joe’s house, except now he had on a pair of gold shoes. He slipped them off and carried them over to the podium, before turning his attention back to Barry.

            “I’m sure you’re wondering why I’ve brought you here.” The assassin smirked, approaching the chair. “It’s not revenge for locking me in that metal room back in your kingdom. Well, not entirely.”

            He began circling Barry as he talked. “You see, there is more to this than you know. I don’t just want to find Oliver and… _return him_ to his stepmother because she’s going to give me half of the 4 th Kingdom. I am also doing it because the Queen will spare my daughter—Oliver’s sister—in exchange for my assistance.” He stopped behind Barry’s chair and grabbed his shoulders. “I am not a foolish man, Mr. Allen. I know what kind of woman the Queen is, and that she will never allow Thea to live comfortably as long as Snow White’s blood running through her veins. That’s where you come in.”

            He pulled Barry sharply backwards, and the chair reclined, forcing him to stare up at Malcolm Merlyn’s intimidating glare. “You are going to tell me everything about your kingdom on the other side of the mirror so that I can conquer it. Then, after the Queen has taken the 4th Kingdom, I will smuggle Thea to your kingdom, where she will be safe.”

            He drew a small dagger and dragged it lightly down Barry’s cheek. “You are going to tell me everything I want to know.”

            Barry shook his head. “I really don’t know anything. Honest.”

            Merlyn’s face almost lit up at the confession. “And here I thought that you’d give up easily. I’m so glad you’re not.”

            He drew away his dagger and moved to Barry’s right, where a small fireplace was burning. Merlyn knelt to the ground and opened a box beside it, pulling out two pairs of what looked like iron shoes. “Have you heard the story of Snow White, Mr. Allen?”

            Barry nodded, his eyes not leaving the shoes.

            “These are the same shoes that they forced the Snow White’s stepmother to wear.” Merlyn placed them on the fire with a wicked grin. “They say that she screamed so loudly when they placed them on her feet, her cries were heard in the 7th Kingdom.”

            He rose to his feet and headed for the door. “I can’t wait to see what they do to you.”

0000000

            When Iris was a little girl, about four or five, she took a candy bar from a gas station without getting her dad to pay for it. When he found out, his face turned a shade of red she’d never seen. She thought he was going to yell at her, but instead, he drove her all the way out of town to Iron Heights. She spent the entire rest of the day learning what happens in prison, walking through the invasive procedures inmates go through getting checked in, and getting talks from every officer they met about how wrong stealing was and how she never wanted to be thrown into jail.

            Until she and her father were being dragged out of the Queen’s cell by prison guards towards the warden’s office, it was the closest she’d gotten to getting arrested. They were led into a small office on the opposite side of the building from the cells. There was another man inside—burly and almost animalistic—forced to his knees in front of the desk in the center of the room. When she really stared at him, she realized he was one of the men that chased them through the mirror.

            Iris and her father were both forced to their knees beside the man, and Oliver was tied to the desk.

            The warden was a hard looking man. His hair was thinning at the top, probably from the stress of running a prison; his teeth were almost completely yellow; and his eyes were piercing and cruel. If she hadn’t grown up around the toughest cops in Central, she would’ve been shaking with terror.

            “Look,” Her father tried to reason, “there has obviously been some kind of mistake—”

            “Silence.” The warden growled, rising to his feet. “I have been the warden of this prison for twelve years. There has never once been a breakout. Now, half of my guards are dead, and two of my criminals—one being the most deadly woman alive—are gone. Now, _where are they?_ ”

            Iris glanced down at her father and the other man, neither of whom seemed very intimidated by the warden. In fact, the other man looked like he was resisting the urge to laugh in his face.

            The warden must have picked up on that, because he moved to kneel down in front of the man. “How about you, Rory? Len hung you out to dry, left you behind to do whatever the hell he wants. In fact, if he’s anything like his old man, he’s probably with the Queen right now.”

            The man—Rory—snorted. “If you think that, you don’t know shit about Lenny. And if you think I’d give him up, you don’t know shit about me.”

            The warden’s jaw clenched, and the next thing Iris knew, Rory was laying out on the floor, his cheek cut where the warden decked him. When he turned to her dad, Iris tensed up.

            “Where is the Queen?” The warden growled.

            “How the hell am I supposed to know?” Her father replied. “I’ve never even met this Queen.”

            “Then why were you and your young accomplice found in her cell?”

            Her dad opened his mouth to answer, but he stopped and turned to Oliver for a second. He frowned. “Why the hell can’t I?” He paused again. “I don’t care what people will think of you. If telling them the truth gets me and my daughter out of here, I’ll do what I’ve got to do.”

            His attention went back to the warden, who was frowning at him in confusion. “Look. We were locked in that cell after Malcolm Merlyn kidnapped my son and shut us in. The reason we’re here is because we were led here by that dog,” he pointed to Oliver, “who is Prince Oliver.”

            The room grew quiet. Iris couldn’t understand what Oliver was probably saying to her dad, but from the expressions on both of their faces, it wasn’t pleasant. After a few seconds, Rory chuckled.

            “I don’t know what people from your world are like, but trust me, he ain’t gonna buy that.”

            “Damn right.” The warden sneered, grabbing Joe West by his collar and dragging him to his feet. “I can make you break rocks with your teeth for the rest of your life. That dog is not Prince Oliver—he is the Queen’s dog, which she has been allowed to keep for three years. _Do not_ question my intelligence.”

            He released his collar and glanced down at Iris. She just shook her head and shrugged. The warden sighed.

            “Put Rory and his new friend in a cell.” He ordered the guards behind them. “As for her, put her with…” he glanced down at a paper on his desk and grinned, “The Canary.”

            Iris was pulled to her feet along with the others and dragged out. “What about the dog, sir?” She overheard one of guards asking.

            “Get the furnace going. I’ll put some rat poison in his dinner tonight, and then we’ll chuck him in the fire.”

            She was pulled away from the door after that, and the three of them were led through the corridors. When they came to a turn, Iris was forced to take it. She could hear her father yell and demand to know where she was being taken, but his cries were ignored as she was taken away.

            They took her through a labyrinth of corridors, far away from the basement they’d entered through, until she was dragged to a halt in front of a wooden cell door. They pulled it open, and she was thrown to the stone floor inside.

            “Are you okay?” Iris looked up to see a blonde woman laid out on the top bunk to her right. She nodded as she pushed herself to her feet and brushed herself off. The woman climbed down from her bunk and smiled almost flirtatiously.

            “I’m Sara.” She winked, holding out a hand. Iris took it. “So, what are you here for?”

            “Wrong place, wrong time.” Iris answered. Sara nodded.

            “Lot of people like that in here. I was an assassin under Malcolm Merlyn, but I deserted. Then, some asshole started a bar fight that I got sucked into, and here I am.”

            “For fighting?” Iris frowned.

            Sara laughed. “No, I stabbed the guy that thought ‘no’ meant yes. He won’t be making that mistake again.”

            Iris’ eyes widened at Sara’s confession. What had she gotten into? 

0000000

           

            Back in the warden’s office, Oliver sat tied to the desk, stomach grumbling as a plate of food was placed in front of him. Gagging at the smell of poison, he pushed the plate away grumpily. The guard who brought it in turned to the warden and addressed him seriously.

“Sir, when we searched the prison, we found that one of the doors to the basement was opened. We believe it’s possible that the Queen escaped that way.” His ears perked up at the mention of the basement.

            “The basement?” The warden frowned. “What’s down there?”

“Some junk that’s been around since before this was a prison.” 

The warden turned away in thought, and Oliver held his breath expectedly. The mirror was done there. If anything happened to it, Barry and his family would be cut off from their world forever. Barry had risked his life twice to save his without knowing him. The least he could do was make sure there was a way for his family to get home, even if Malcolm still had Barry.

 After a few minutes of thinking, the warden turned back and grinned.

“Take the men’s work detail and have them clean out the entire room top to bottom.” The guard nodded in response and the warden left the room with the guard right behind him. Oliver took his chance and jumped into the desk chair, reading the names of the work detail.

He grabbed a pencil in his mouth and hoped for the best as he messily sketched out J-O-E on the paper, followed by W-E-S-T. If he were still human, he’d grin at his work. As it was, he jumped down and trotted back over to his poisoned food, which he ‘accidentally’ knocked over onto the floor. He was going to make it out of this.

0000000

Barry struggled fruitlessly against his bounds. It’d been almost an hour since Merlyn had left the room, and since then, he’d worked his wrists nearly raw trying to free them from the leather straps on the chair. He’d only spared a glance over at the metal shoes once, but now he knew that they were red hot. Merlyn would be back any minute, and he needed to be gone by then.

He couldn’t even think about what was probably happening to Iris and Joe back at the prison. The guards there probably pinned the Queen’s escape on them. What would happen if he didn’t get there to break them out?

A clicking sound behind the chair pulled him out of his thoughts. He tried to turn to get a better look, but all he saw was a shadow through the shutters. Someone was breaking in. To save him? To steal from Merlyn? He didn’t care, as long as they set him free.

His hope crashed when one of the men that tried to take Oliver pushed open the shutters and sauntered in. The man—Len, wasn’t it? —searched for any threats. When he seemed content that there weren’t any, he stepped towards Barry.

            He flinched away. “Don’t come any closer, or I’ll scream.” Barry threatened. He wouldn’t actually –whatever Len was going to do couldn’t be worse than what Merlyn was going to do when he came back—but Len didn’t know that.

            Or maybe, if the smirk on his face meant anything, he knew exactly how empty Barry’s threat was. He moved even closer, leaning right into Barry’s personal space. “Go ahead…Scarlet.” He goaded with a glance down at his red sweater. 

            Barry scowled as the man started to unlatch his hands. The minute his hands were free, Barry jerked them away. Len rolled his eyes and went to work on freeing his legs. “You know, I’m beginning to get the feeling that you don’t trust me very much.”

            “I don’t trust you at all!” Barry argued, wishing the man would hurry so he could get as far away from him as possible. “You broke into my father’s apartment, attacked me, and your friend almost ate my dad!”

            Len chuckled. “Mick wasn’t going to eat anyone. Most days, he’s all talk and no bite. Besides, you were never in any real danger.” He explained, unbuckling the last restraint. “I wasn’t lying when I said that all we wanted was the dog.”

            The moment his leg was free, Barry jumped out of his seat and ran for the other side of the room. Len shook his head. “I don’t know what your plan is for getting out without my help. I spent the last three hours casing the place; I know the best way to get out and get us back to the prison.”

            Barry frowned. “Back to the…?” But Len’s attention was no longer on him. Instead, he cracked open the chamber door to glance down the outside corridor.

Barry watched him curiously. What sort of man was this? One that would break into someone’s home and threaten them, only to come back not even a day later and save them and their family? What was this guy’s motivation?

Suddenly, he felt a whisper of air to his right. His eyes moved on their own accord from the man at the door to the podium with Merlyn’s magic shoes. Next thing he knew, he was holding them in his hands.

            “Kid…” Len spoke up and…when did he move beside him? How long had Barry been staring at the shoes? “Barry. Put the shoes down.”

            If anything, Barry’s grip on them tightened. “The king wore these in here…they gave him powers.”

            He could feel Len staring at him, but all he could look at was the shoes. “I know.”

            “But they gave him _powers_. He was invisible.”

“I know.” Len pulled the shoes from Barry’s hands. “I know that they grant abilities to anyone who wears them. I also know that they’re dangerous. The magic in them has an addictive quality –you’ll want to wear them all the time.”

            He led Barry away from the podium and handed him his backpack. “We have ninety seconds to climb out the window, shimmy down the wall, and make it to the other end of the castle doors.”

            Len left him to check out the window one last time, and Barry took his chance, grabbing the shoes from the podium and shoving them into his pack before Len even turned around. The man motioned for Barry to follow him over.

            The climb down the wall was treacherous, and the run across the courtyard even more so, but soon, they were at the crossroads a mile away from the castle without a single guard catching them. Barry would be giddy if his friends weren’t trapped back at the prison.

            As if reading his mind, Len motioned for him to follow once again. “When Merlyn finds out you’re missing,” he explained, “he’s going to send people to search all over the main road until they find you. And they will, unless…”

            Barry froze when he saw the road Len was suggesting. Whereas the main road was lit by the afternoon sun and paved with rocks to give an easier ride to carts and carriages, this way was dark, like a storm was always brewing overhead, and the road was practically non-existent. That wasn’t what shocked Barry, though. That honor went to the thousand-foot-high beanstalks growing all around, reaching past the clouds. He swallowed hard.

            “No.” He shook his head. “There is no way I am going in there.”

            Len shrugged. “Enjoy getting caught then, Scarlet. Because it’s the only way.”

0000000

            Barry followed Len through the forest, glancing up at the occasional roar echoing from the top of the beanstalks. After about the third time, Len chuckled.

            “Calm down, Scarlet. The giants never come down from their beanstalks anymore.”

            Barry glared, but continued on, stopping only when they passed a marble statue of a man holding an axe. On the base of the statue were the carved words, “ **BRAVE JACK, OUR FIRST MAYOR** ”. Len must have noticed him stopping, because suddenly, he was right beside him.

            “Beantown’s first mayor.” Len explained. “The man who climbed the beanstalk and took down a giant, single-handed.”

            “Jack and the Beanstalk was real, too?” Barry asked, eyeing the statue in amazement.

Len shrugged and started walking again. “This area used to be prosperous before Brave Jack there came along and accidentally grew all of these beanstalks.”

Barry tried to listen, but all he could think about were the shoes in his backpack. Instead of following Len, he crept behind the statue and opened his pack. When he slipped on the shoes, it was euphoric. His heart felt lighter, and it was like he could do anything. Lightning was shooting through his veins. He sped away—actually _ran at superspeed_ , not too far, and shivered. The feeling of the wind in his hair, the magic washing over him…

“—the land was polluted by their roots, so nothing grows here. Which is part of why Malcolm Merlyn hates Oliver Queen so much, since his family were the ones that banished him here.” Len had apparently turned around to look at him and noticed him gone, because Barry heard footsteps quickly backtracking.

He flashed into the trees and away from Len. Part of his brain—he didn’t know if it was his reasonable side or the side being manipulated by the shoes—was telling him to get as far away as possible from Len. After all, he was a criminal, right? How was he supposed to trust him? He could make it to the prison, save Joe and Iris, and go back home without his help.

He stopped running, the magic giving out all of a sudden. He groaned when he heard footsteps catching up, and pressed himself as far into the shadows of a nearby beanstalk as he possibly could.

“Barry!” Len called out. “Those shoes are messing with your head. You’re safer with me than you are with those magical death traps!” He went silent for a moment, like he was waiting for Barry to jump out and say “Here I am!”. When that didn’t happen, he sighed.

“You’re being a real pain in the ass, kid.” He continued past Barry’s hiding place. When Barry assumed he was a safe distance away, he exhaled. Barry tried to get the shoes to work again, but they just sputtered and flickered with magic.

 “Well,” He said to himself, stepping away from the beanstalk, “at least I don’t have to hear about it from that creep.”

“That’s what you think, kid.”

His heart nearly jumped out his throat. He’d thought that Len had continued past the beanstalk but instead, there he was leaning just on the other side, smirking smugly over at him.

“What?” Len asked. “You think I didn’t know where you were? I wasn’t born yesterday, kid. The magic in those shoes don’t last forever, and I knew it was only a matter of time before you stepped out from your hiding place. Also, I resent the creep comment.”

He took a step forward and panic set in Barry’s chest. “Stay back!” He growled, taking off the shoes and hugging them to his chest. If Len thought he was going to get them, he had another thing coming.

Len just frowned. “I don’t want your shoes. I want you to move your ass before—” He stopped, staring at the space behind Barry with wide eyes. “Never mind. It’s too late, they’re on our trail with their dogs already.”

Barry glanced back to see bouncing lights getting closer. “What do we do?”

0000000

Climb the nearest beanstalk and climb up to a branch thirty feet off the ground to wait them out. That’s what Len decided they would do. According to him, the smell was so potent, the dogs wouldn’t be able to get their scents. Barry believed it. It smelled worse than Tony Woodward’s gym socks.

They sat in silence for nearly half an hour, waiting for Merlyn’s soldiers to pass by and get ahead of them, until Barry finally had to say something.

“Why do you want to break into the prison?”

Len’s face didn’t change expression, but Barry could tell he didn’t really want to answer. “There’s someone I have inside that I want out.”

Barry raised an eyebrow. “Who?”

“None of your business.”

Barry let out a low whistle. “Look, I’m just trying to make conversation. It feels like we’re going to be stuck up here a while, and I’d rather not do that in silence.”

He waited to see if Len was going to say something, _anything_ else. The man’s eyes stayed focused on the ground, though, and Barry started losing hope he’d speak up.

“I was locked in the prison, right before I jumped into your world.” Len shifted in his seat, like talking about this was too personal. “I’m a thief, and I got with a friend of mine—you’ve met him.”

Barry snorted. Understatement, much?

“We got out and followed Prince Oliver into your world. When we came back, though, the guards started waking up. A couple of them were up before the both of us could get out, and Mick stayed behind to fight them off while I got away. When I saw you being carried off, I figured that your friends probably were caught in the same predicament as my partner. You could help me with a little prison break.” He shrugged. “Simple as that.”

The look on his face told Barry that there was more to the reason, but he didn’t push it. Instead, he thought about Len’s story. “Why did you want Oliver?”

Len tensed up, now refusing to look Barry’s way. “You know, I think I should hold those shoes for you.” He said, changing the topic.

Barry’s hands clenched. “Why?”

“Because you said that you were going to keep them in your backpack before we climbed up here, and now you’re holding them in your lap and stroking them like they’re your new pet.”

Barry realized he was right. He didn’t even remember taking the shoes out of his backpack, but there they were, in his lap. He felt the urge to put them on again.

“Scarlet…”

Barry shuddered. “Take them.” He ordered, shoving the shoes into Len’s waiting hands. “I don’t want them anymore. They make me feel like I’m on LSD or something.”

Len put them in the inside pocket of his coat without a word. They went quiet again. “What’s up with your partner anyway?” Barry broke the silence again. “I mean, he was talking about scent, and he growls—like _actual_ growls—and he was going to eat my dad.”

“I told you—”

“I know, he wouldn’t have really.” Barry cut Len off. “But, still. He isn’t human, is he?”

Len pursed his lips and, for a moment, Barry thought he wouldn’t answer. “He’s what people call a wolf.”

“Like a werewolf?”

He shook his head. “No. Like, a wolf in a man’s body. They’re also called half-wolfs. They have all of the instincts and senses of wolves, and even some characteristics of them.”

Barry furrowed his brow. “Characteristics?”

“Sometimes,” Len explained, “Mick’s eyes flash gold, like a wolf’s. Sometimes his teeth extend, and he becomes more wolf-like. Not to mention…” He paused, like he’d said too much, but Barry was way too curious now.

“What?”

“ _Hehasatail_.” Len murmured quickly. Barry wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly.

“He _what?_ ”

“He has a tail.” The criminal repeated with a groan. “A big fuzzy one he hides in his pants that he likes to have petted.”

Barry stared at Len in shock, picturing the hulking man that’d pinned Barry to his father’s bed and called him Sunday lunch with a fluffy tail. He couldn’t hold in his laugh anymore. He laughed so hard, he almost fell backwards off of the beanstalk. Len joined in a few seconds later, and Barry decided that Len was the kind of person that needed to laugh more often, because it was a wonderful sound.

0000000

            The sun had barely peaked over the horizon when Joe West’s cell door was thrown open by a couple of guards.

            “Rory, West. You’re both on work detail.” One of them announced, dragging them both out of their beds. Rory looked ready to start a fight with one of them, but was still half-asleep enough for them to latch shackles onto. They were both pulled into the corridor where a dozen other shackled men were waiting. They were hooked to the end of the line and pulled through the prison, Joe keeping an eye out the entire time for any sign of Iris.

            “If you’re looking for your kid,” Rory’s voice growled quietly behind him, “she’ll be on the other side of the prison, in the women’s block.”

            Joe didn’t respond, but kept eyeing the halls for his daughter. When they were finally pulled outside, the sun was coming up over the river surrounding the prison. The guards grabbed Rory and pulled him towards an empty barge with a covered roof. They stopped about five feet away.

            “Pay attention!” One of the guards commanded, walking down the line that now stretched from where Rory stood near the boat back to the door they exited from. “Today, you are taking all of the junk from the basement that is back there,” he pointed towards the door, “and passing it down until you finally throw it there.” He pointed to the barge.

            Joe frowned. That was a far way to throw things that could be breakable. The line started, passing down old vases, paintings, and faded china. Each time it reached Rory, he’d throw it on the barge. Without fail, if it was breakable, it would shatter the minute it hit.

            Then, the light caught something down the line that caught Joe’s eye. The mirror. Rory seemed to notice it, too, because he elbowed Joe subtly.

            “Just keep it going down the line, West.” He whispered. “Trust me. There’s no getting it out now.” He threw the clay pot Joe handed him onto the barge. It broke.

            “That is mine and my children’s only way home.” Joe argued back quietly, handing off another cheap pot. The mirror was getting closer.

            “Yeah? Well, your kids ain’t here right now, are they? So, even if you figure out how to turn it on, you can’t escape through it. Unless you’re planning on trading your kids for the dozen prisoners you’re currently shackled to.”

            Joe clenched his teeth as the mirror came into his hands. Rory was right—reluctant as he was to say it. He wouldn’t leave without Barry and Iris. The barge would still be here if they escaped, and if the mirror broke…

            He tried not to think about it as he handed it off to Rory. The man gave him a nod as he took it. Joe practically bit a hole into his lip as Rory aimed for the boat and, not as carefully as Joe would’ve wanted, threw it.

            The mirror flew through the air in slow motion towards the barge, and Joe could just imagine the glass shattering everywhere, his chances of going home shattering with it. Then, the extraordinary happened.

            It landed perfectly. The glass didn’t even shake in the frame. Joe had to resist the urge to whoop with glee. Rory raised an eyebrow back at the detective and nodded towards the prisoner to Joe’s left trying to hand him a painting.

            Right. Work detail.

0000000

            The forest at the edge of the prison was dense—at least, enough so that Len and Barry were able to hide out of the sight of the guards. Len could sense the kid’s tension. It was understandable; his family was locked away in that prison. Len’s was, too. If it’d be Lisa inside with Mick, he probably would be just as upset.

            But Len knew it wasn’t just the prison agitating him. He could feel the shoes in Barry’s bag calling to him just as they were calling to Barry. The only difference was that he could resist, unlike Barry, obviously.

            “We could use the shoes.” The other man whispered suddenly. “If I put them on, I could speed us into the prison and get Joe, Iris, Oliver, and Mick out without anyone noticing.”

             Shocker. Barry’s plan involved using Malcolm Merlyn’s shoes. Len turned back to look over the prison. Snow White Memorial Prison was practically impenetrable unless you had weeks or even months to plan. Even the Queen had to wait thirteen years before planning her big escape. If the warden thought that Mick or Barry’s family had anything to do with her breakout, they definitely did not have that kind of time.

            “Let’s say we go with your plan.” He finally said. “What’s to stop you from saving your family and leaving Mick behind?” Not that he believed that someone as sweet and naïve as Barry would ever do that. Barry looked offended.

            “Really? We’re having trust issues _now_?” Len shrugged, resisting the urge to laugh at Barry’s annoyance. He rolled his eyes as he pulled the shoes out of his bag and dropped them to the ground. “Fine. How about you hold onto me, I run us both into the prison, and we grab everyone together?”

            Before Len could argue against that, Barry slipped on the shoes, grabbed Len’s arm, and suddenly, they were moving faster than he’d ever moved before.

0000000

            Iris was bored.

            Seriously.

            When parents warn their children about the dangers of prison, they should just warn them about how boring it was sitting around in a cell with nothing to do but stare at the bottom of the top bunk. Eventually, her eyes fell heavy, and she drifted away to sleep, only to be awoken a few hours later by the sound of metal scraping against stone.

            She woke slowly to the sight of her cellmate moving around a large hole that had earlier been blocked by the end of the bed. Apparently, Sara moved the bed while Iris had been sleeping.

            “Sara…” The blonde spun around with a surprised expression on her face.

            “Damn, you’re awake.” Sara looked between Iris and the hole in the wall guiltily. “You weren’t supposed to wake up yet.”

            It took a few more seconds for Iris’ brain to catch up with what was happening. “You dug a tunnel out of here?”

            Sara quickly glanced around the room like a guard was going to pop out of the walls or something and catch her. “I’ve been in this prison for almost three years, and I’ve worked on this tunnel every day of that sentence. Today is the day I finally break out.”

            Iris rose from her bunk and stared down the dark tunnel. It had to be at least fifty feet deep, an impressive feat if she’d used the spoon she had gripped in her hand to dig. Or maybe she was going to kill Iris with it. Honesty, she’d known Sara for not even a whole day; the blonde could be thinking anything.

            “How about you come with me?”

 That wasn’t what Iris expected.

“I know you said that your dad is locked up in here,” Sara explained, “but you also said your brother was taken. It sounds to me like he’s in more danger than your father is. I could help you get him back.”

            Iris continued to stare at her friend, thoroughly confused by her cellmate, but seriously considering the offer. Sara let out an impatient sigh.

            “Look, you said Malcolm Merlyn took your brother? I used to be a member of his guard. I can help you save him, but it has to be now.”

            Iris’ heart nearly stopped. Sara could help save Barry. Then, they could come back to the prison, save her father, and go home. In the end, her choice wasn’t really that hard.

0000000

            Oliver pushed away _yet another_ poisonous dinner from the warden with distaste. He hadn’t eaten since the morning he spent at Barry’s father’s home. Was this how it was going to end? With him starving to death? With him finally giving in to his hunger and taking a poisoned bite of food?

            He was shaken from his moping by the door swinging open and a sudden wind bursting into the room. When he raised his head, Barry was standing at the warden’s desk with the man that worked with the wolf.

            _“Barry! How did you get away from Malcolm? Why is_ he _here?”_

Barry glanced away from the cell assignment list he’d been reading and knelt down to scratch behind Oliver’s ear. As degrading as it was, Oliver couldn’t deny that it was satisfying, and it made his tail wag.

            “Len here saved me from Malcolm.” He explained. “We’re going to break everyone out.”

            Behind Barry, ‘Len’ scoffed. “I said I’d help break out your family. The prince can stay and rot for all I care.”

            Barry scowled back at him. “We’re getting _everyone_ out. Oliver doesn’t deserve to be here anymore than they do.” He rose to his feet and grabbed the cell keys from the desk. “Now, stay here for a minute. Iris’ cell is the closest, so I’m going to go get her first.”

            Then, faster than Oliver could see, Barry was gone. Len and he were plunged into an uncomfortable silence, neither having anything to say to the other—though even if Oliver had, Len wouldn’t have understood him. When Barry returned half a minute later, Oliver knew something was wrong. Clearly, so did Len.

            “What happened?” The criminal asked worriedly. Barry shook his head.

            “We have a bit of a problem.” He grabbed Oliver and Len, and suddenly, they were shooting through the corridors, only to find themselves stopped in an empty cell. That’s when Oliver noticed what was on Barry’s feet—Malcolm Merlyn’s magic shoes.

            _Oh, Barry_ , he thought, knowing that even if he warned him about their addictive properties, Barry still wouldn’t be able to give them up. One problem at a time.

            “Where’s your sister?” Len asked, crossing his arms, annoyed. Barry walked over to the end of the bed and kicked it back from the wall, revealing a human sized hole.

            Wow, Barry’s sister did fast work.

            _“Now what?”_ Oliver found himself asking. With a sigh, Barry flashed from the room again, returned two more times—once with Joseph West, and once more with the wolf.

            Barry’s foster father threw his arms around his son with a laugh, and Oliver pretended not to notice the tears in his eyes. Barry reluctantly pulled away.

            “Joe, Iris already escaped.” Barry nodded towards the tunnel. “And these magic shoes don’t have enough magic left in them to get all of us out of here through the main entrance.”

            “So what’s the plan?” Joe responded. Barry looked towards the tunnel, and Oliver already knew that none of them would like this plan. 

0000000

            The tunnel was a bit longer than Iris had anticipated, though it was a straight shot to the outside. Sara led the way through, asking every few minutes how she was doing. Then, the worst possible thing happened—Iris’ got hung on something.

            “Iris?” Sara called out as sunlight burst into the tunnel, showing she’d made it through.

            Iris pulled again, realizing that her belt loop must have been hung on one of the rocks. “I’m stuck!” She called back. She heard Sara shifting from foot-to-foot at the end of the tunnel.

            “I can’t get back in there to get you.” The assassin sighed. “Just...can you shimmy your way out?”

            Iris moved her hips, trying to dislodge the rock she was hooked on, but she couldn’t. “I can’t!”

            Then, something touched her butt.

            “Oh my god!” She screamed. “Someone’s in here with me!”

            She calmed when a voice called out behind her, “Iris?”

            “Barry?” If she could, she’d turn around and throw her arms around her foster brother. She couldn’t believe he was safe, much less stuck in a tunnel behind her. “How—?”

            “IRIS!” Sara called frantically into the tunnel. “Iris, are you okay?”

            In her joy, she’d forgotten that Sara was still outside waiting for her. “I’m fine!” She called back. “Barry’s in the tunnel with me; he’s fine! You go on, and we’ll find our own way!”

            There was silence at the end of the tunnel, like Sara was considering staying, but then she heard hurried footsteps from the opening, and she knew Sara was gone. “Barry, I think my belt loop is caught on something. I’m almost at the end of the tunnel, but I can’t move.”

            “Alright, give me a second.” She felt a hand on her slide up to her lower back and towards her waistband. After some uncomfortable shifting, she was finally able to move forward, practically falling out of the end of the tunnel.

            The fresh air and warmth of the sunlight were heavenly. She breathed in deep and sighed.

            “Little help, here?” She turned to see Barry halfway out of the tunnel, grinning back at her. She rushed over to help pull him out. Iris didn’t know who started it, but the two were in a tight embrace, their faces buried in each other’s necks.

            “This is very touching.” A voice behind them drawled. “However, I’d like to get out of this hole.”

            They pulled apart, and Iris frowned down at a somewhat familiar man sticking his head out of the tunnel. Barry, on the other hand, rolled his eyes and reached down to help the man out.

            “Len, Iris. Iris, Len.” Barry distractedly introduced them as he turned to pull out another person—this time, her father. Iris practically pounce her father, vaguely aware of Barry pulling Mick out— _that’s right, Len was his partner—_ and then Oliver jumping out after him.

            Then, she remembered why they’d been in the prison in the first place. “Great. Now we have to get back inside and find the mirror.”

            Her father shook his head. “Rory and I took care of that this morning. There’s a boat on the river with all the junk that was in that basement, and the mirror is on it!” Without another word, her father ran for the riverbank, and she and Barry had no choice but to follow. Mick and Len were right behind them, strangely enough, though Iris didn’t question it.

            When they reached the bank, there was one boat secured…but it was empty. Her father rubbed a hand over his head frustratingly. “It was here. There was a boat with the mirror.”

            “You mean that boat?” Len asked, nodding towards a sort-of barge further up the river. The look on her father’s face said it all.

            When she saw a blonde head moving around on the deck, Iris wasn’t sure whether to feel relief or frustration. Sara took the boat…and their way home.

0000000

            In the bowels of the abandoned castle, the Queen walked swiftly, leading her a number of shovel-wielding servants down into the lowest chamber. Seven lanterns swung slightly in her hands as she stepped into a vast chamber, the words of the dream that haunted her nights in Snow White Memorial Prison echoing through her head.

            **_I am dead, but my work is unfinished._**

She stepped up to a star-marker set in the center of the circular chamber.

**_The House of Snow White survives_ **

Each lantern was placed at each spoke of the star.

**_You must finish my work. In the ruin of my castle, you will find the source of my power,_ **

Without so much as an order, the servants hustled to one of the lanterns and began digging, eventually revealing a large, rectangular object wrapped in canvas.

**_These are my gifts; they give you my power,_ **

They repeated the process at each lantern, unearthing six more canvas-wrapped objects of different sizes and shapes. The Queen held her breath as the canvas covering was ripped free, revealing a oval, black framed mirror.

**_Mirrors to travel, Mirrors to spy._ **

**_Mirrors to remember, Mirrors to forget._ **

**_Mirrors to rule the world._ **

The canvas was removed from each mirror. When she saw herself reflected back in each of the magical glasses, she reveled in her own return. “Oh,” She whispered, running her fingers gently across the glass. “It’s good to have the power back.”

0000000

So…did they steal a boat from a prison? Yes.

            Did they have to listen to Joe argue that they should leave Len and Mick behind at the prison ‘where they belonged’, despite the fact that they’d been helpful and were now offering more help? Yes.

            Did Barry wonder _why_ the two criminals were tagging along? Maybe. But honestly, asking seemed too personal, and questioning it too much felt like looking a gift horse in the mouth.

            So, complaints from Joe aside, the six of them did what they had to do and decided to track down Iris’ former cellmate to get the mirror back.

            They followed the current upriver towards what Oliver called ‘River Town’, one of the largest port towns in all of the 4th Kingdom. If Sara Lance were to make port, that would be where she’d do so. Joe sat quietly, fishing off the bow to of the ship, while Iris read one of the books Barry happened to have in his bag— _Twenty-Thousand Leagues Under the Sea—_ one of his favorites—with Oliver at her feet. Barry sat towards the stern holding his magical shoes close to his chest, while Mick and Len stood about ten feet away, whispering to one another. He absentmindedly ran his fingers along the spiral design in the gold fabric of the shoes, sighing at the euphoria he felt from the magic radiating off of them.

            He decided that he would put them back on later—maybe while everyone was asleep. It always felt better when he wore them, and he knew that he’d hear about magic’s ‘addictive’ properties if he put them on now.

            He was jarred from his thoughts when Mick and Len plopped down on either side of him. Len wore his usual smirk as his eyes traced Barry’s face. Barry turned to Mick, who was also staring at him with a thin lipped smile.

            Suddenly, his arms were being held behind him, and Mick was lunging at him. Before he could let out a cry, the shoes were torn from his hands, and, without another look at Barry, the wolf threw them overboard. Barry tried to go after them, but Len held strong.

            “Barry, let them go!” He growled. “You were already thinking about wearing them again, weren’t you?”

            Barry stopped fighting. His mind was coming back to him the further away the shoes sunk from the boat. “Wha—?”

            “Magic is very pretty,” Mick spoke up, “but it’s dangerous. Trust us.”

            With that, the wolf settled back in the seat beside Barry, throwing his arm behind him while Len rose to his feet and headed below deck.

0000000

            After being locked away in prison, even for a day, Joe could really appreciate the sunshine and the smell of the clean river in front of him. Was he happy with their travelling mates? One glance down the boat at Rory sitting with his arm thrown behind Barry and at the smirk Snart was throwing both of them as he climbed below deck, and he was sure that he definitely wanted the two of them _gone_. But, somehow, Snart had earned Barry’s trust and, by association, so had Rory. That didn’t mean that Joe had to like it.

            Oliver trotted to his side after a few moments, clearly bored of resting next to Iris. _“Joseph, you need to do something about this ‘Mick Rory’ character. And probably his friend, too.”_

Joe raised an eyebrow. “First of all, it’s Detective West to you, especially since you’re the reason that we’re all in this mess. Second of all, I’m not doing anything. Barry trusts them, so I trust them.” He didn’t, not as far as he could throw them, but he wasn’t going to tell a _dog_ that.

            _“Mick Rory is a wolf. Wolves have almost no control over their animalistic sides. That’s why they’re banned throughout the 4 th Kingdom. If you keep him around Barry, he’ll have him for breakfast.”_

            About that time, Barry stood up from his seat and walked over towards where Iris was reading, not even noticing Rory practically leering after him. Joe’s hands clenching into fists, which Oliver seemed to notice.

            _“Or on his back.”_ The prince added as the wolf stood and approached the pair. He leaned against the bow of the ship and breathed in the fresh river air. Joe figured he probably hadn’t had much fresh air outside of hunting down Barry and Oliver. Which Joe still couldn’t forget.

            He hadn’t realized that he was glaring at the wolf until Rory huffed. “What is that fleabag telling you about me?”

            _“Nothing that isn’t true.”_ Oliver grumbled.

            “He doesn’t trust you or Snart.” The _neither do I_ was implied.

            Rory scoffed. “Good. I hate the Queens, anyway. Princey here’s mother made it legal to have all wolves shot on sight throughout the 4th Kingdom.” 

_“That’s because wolves are nothing more than chicken-rustling, sheep-worrying Granny-eaters. We should get rid of him and Snart. We don’t need them.”_

Joe considered what Oliver said, before shaking his head. He honestly didn’t trust Oliver much more than he trusted Rory or Snart, and by his count, the two of them would be a lot more helpful in their endeavor than a talking dog that attracted trouble.

Rory, obviously, had more to say to the dog. “Serves you right, getting turned into a dog.” He pointed a finger into Oliver’s snout. “Dogs are just wolves mixed with old pillows.”

He howled when Oliver bit his finger and snatched his hand away. A gleam in his eye told Joe that he wanted to rip the dog apart, but a voice across the deck halted him.

“Are you three fighting over there?” Barry approached behind Rory, who took a deep breath and relaxed. It took Joe a minute to realize that Barry’s _scent_ was what calmed him down. It made Joe antsy. Without another word, Rory followed Snart’s lead and went below decks.

0000000

The night passed uneventfully, save for the rocking of the ship and the constant drip from the deck above that kept Barry awake for hours. When the sun peeked through the boards above him, he groaned and attempted to roll to his side, only to be stopped by Oliver, who was curled up next to him on the small cot. He never thought he’d be jealous of a _dog_ , but the fact he could sleep through the night was envy worthy.

Joe was already up, no shocker to Barry, if the sounds coming from the small bathroom meant anything, though Iris seemed to be in the same state as her foster brother, throwing her hands over her face with a moan.

He tried to squeeze his eyes closed and go back to sleep, but loud bootsteps stomped towards the stairs and down below deck.

“Morning.” Mick smirked as he appeared down the stairs, sending a wink towards Barry. Of course he’d be a morning person. “Sleep well, doll?”

Barry sent a glare his way. “No. I just got to sleep like an hour ago. The deck leaks right on my head—it’s like getting Chinese Water Torture.”

“You should’ve slept above decks with Lenny and I.” The wolf replied with a cheeky eyebrow raise as the criminal in question stepped downstairs, looking a lot less upbeat than him. “It would’ve been a lot more comfortable.”

He tried to think of a good response, but honestly, it was too early. Luckily, he was spared from admitting that when Oliver jumped awake and ran to the deck, yelling something about ‘taking care of business’ behind him. Barry didn’t want to know.

Since he was already awake, Barry rolled out of bed to his feet and stretched. He stopped when he noticed the way he was being watched by the two criminals and quickly rushed into the bathroom, passing Joe on the way in.

“Hey, you two need to stay the hell away from my son.” Joe’s voice came from the cabin. Barry rolled his eyes.

“I dunno.” He heard Len snark back. “It’s a small boat, West. Either one of us could bump into him at any given time.”

Mick laughed, only to grunt at what sounded like a pillow hitting him. “Can you three take this somewhere else, or talk a little quieter?” Iris grumbled.

All three men growled, but when Joe spoke again, his voice was lower. “Look, Barry is a good kid that sees the good in everyone, even when there isn’t any. But I’ll be damned if I’m gonna allow a couple of criminals to take advantage his good heart.”

“Could you all stop talking about me like I’m not here?” Barry called out, poking his head from the bathroom door. It was just like Joe to go all overprotective dad and doubt Barry’s own decisions.

Joe didn’t even have the decency to look ashamed. Barry sighed and headed up to the deck to get away from the judgmental glare of his foster father. He didn’t know why he trusted Len and Mick. Sure, Len saved him from Merlyn, but only so he’d help rescue Mick. Maybe Joe was right—maybe he was too good.

He heard footsteps approaching behind him, but didn’t turn. Instead, he focused his attention out on the water. When Len leaned against the railing beside him, he finally gave up ignoring him.

“Which kingdom are we in now?” He found himself asking. Len smiled thinly.

“None.” He replied. “We’re in neutral territory. One bank belongs to Prince Puppy over there,” he motioned to Oliver trotting over to them, “and the other bank belongs to the assassin kingdom. It’s a good place to be if you’re avoiding the law. Which, we all now are.”

Barry nodded. They sat in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the sound of the water breaking against the side of the boat, the air blowing against their skin, the smell of the water. Joe and Iris both eventually made their own ways up to the deck, each finding something quiet to do—Iris continued Barry’s book and Joe tried his hand at fishing again.

Oliver was the one to eventually break the quiet. _“I hope Detective West realizes the chances of him catching a fish in this river are not in his favor.”_

He must have forgotten that Joe could understand him too, because the detective raised an eyebrow at the dog and snorted. “That an insult to my fishing skills, Fido?”

_“No. I just thought you should know that there’s only one fish that lives in this river.”_

“Let me guess.” Joe said. “It’s a magical fish that curses anyone that catches it.”

_“Close. Anyone that grants it is granted the ability to turn any one object they wish into gold with a single touch. But the fish is nearly impossible to catch.”_

Joe let out a low whistle. “We’ll see about that.”

0000000

The Queen was growing irritated. She hadn’t heard news about Oliver in days. She was sure that Leonard Snart and Mick Rory had already given up chase, despite the wolf’s hatred for the monarch, and Malcolm Merlyn hadn’t dared show his face since he allowed Oliver to escape in the first place.

She clenched her fists and turned to the helpers that never failed her—her mirrors.

“Mirror,” One of the glasses shimmered and warped into the shape of a face.

_“Yes, my Queen?”_

“Where is Oliver?”

The glass paused only for a moment. _“He travels upriver towards us, unknowingly. With him are five companions. One of them is powerful— not only has his light has already turned Mick Rory and Leonard Snart to his side, but he can speak to Oliver, and has the power to destroy you. The others protect him loyally and unconditionally.”_

The Queen stiffened. The mirror could not lie. So, Oliver recruited someone of great power to assist him. No matter. Her mirrors would find out more. “Show them to me.”

_“I…cannot. A great magic blocks them from my sight.”_

She grunted angrily. Something was working against her in favor of Oliver and this…power. However, it couldn’t stop where there was already an oath.

“If Mick Rory is with them, work on him. _Make him_ speak with me.”

0000000

Mick was down below decks, shaving, when a voice echoed through the cabin.

“Mick…Mick…”

            He spun quickly, finding himself still alone in the cabin. Shaking his head, he turned back, only to see another face staring back at him. The Queen.

            “What the hell—?”

            The Queen smiled coldly back at him. “Now, don’t tell me that you and Mr. Snart have both abandoned me, Mick. After all, you gave me your word that you would bring me the dog, and that is something that I don’t take lightly.”

            Mick clenched his teeth, “I don’t want anything to do with you, bitch. I didn’t know who you were before, but now, I don’t care who it is you want. I’m not doing a damn thing for you.”

            He expected the Queen to get angry, to yell and curse him, but instead, she pursed her lips disappointedly. “I’m sorry you feel that way. But I do control you. You must obey me. Why can’t I see your companions, Mick? What magic hides them? What is this power that travels with you?”

            Mick startled. He didn’t know what she was talking about, but now he knew the Queen didn’t know about Barry or the others. Just that he, Len, and the prince were travelling with others. He didn’t know what it was protecting them from the Queen, but he was glad to hear it. The last thing he wanted was the Queen to find out he had a weak spot for someone as delicate as Barry.

            “Hey, Mick!” Speak of the devil. The Queen’s eyes lit up when footsteps echoed down the stairs, but Mick flipped the mirror around to face the wall just before Barry poked his head into the room. “You okay down here? I thought I heard you talking to someone?”

            Mick took a towel and wiped his face clean. “Just…talking to myself.” He took a deep whiff of Barry’s scent, which settled him. He didn’t know why he’d become so quickly attached to Barry, nor why he thought he smelled as good as he did. He could only blame his wolf instincts that continuously screamed ‘MATE’. It was the same sensation he’d felt when he first met Lenny, but he never thought that he could have more than one. Barry just seemed so… _right._ If he had to protect someone as disgusting as Oliver Queen to keep him happy and safe, Mick would do that with only mild complaining.

            The kid smiled back at him. “We were all getting worried about you.” Even from the small amount of time Mick had spent with Barry and his family, he already figured the kid out enough it meant Barry had been worried, but didn’t want to seem like he was clingy or anything. Mick chuckled.

            “I’ll be right up.” He assured. Barry paused, his eyes tracing past Mick’s face, and it occurred to the wolf that he hadn’t put on his shirt yet. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and Barry Allen was staring at his body. He smirked.

            “Like what you see, doll?”

            A blush crawled up Barry’s cheeks as he quickly averted his eyes with stammered excuses before rushing out of the cabin embarrassedly. Mick wanted to laugh, but then he remembered the Queen. He pulled the mirror slightly away from the wall, but the Queen’s face was gone. He sighed in relief, but left it facing the wall. Just in case.

0000000

            The dog prince was distressed. After entering their new home, his mistress showed him to what she referred to as his ‘room’. The dog was confused—he had never been allowed his own room before. His entire life he shared a room with his mistress. He didn’t understand why he was to be left alone.

            He crawled around on the cold, stone floor, missing his fur that kept him so warm and his tail that would wag behind him as he walked.

            “Stand up.”

            He also missed his keen senses that would’ve warned him when his mistress was coming. He stood as he always had, rising up to balance on his knees with his paws held in front of him.

            His mistress sneered. “Stand up…properly.”

            The dog prince thought of rising up _completely_ and walking like his mistress. He imagined being that high up…and cringed. “I’m scared to.” He answered honestly.

            His mistress tilted her head. “What of?”

            “Falling.”

            A laugh fell from his mistress’ lips as she crossed the room to stand before him. “Do you know who you are?” She asked, gently pulling him to his feet. The dog shook his head. “You are Prince Oliver Queen, grandson of the great Snow White. You are going to be _king_.”

            The dog frowned. He didn’t want that. He wanted a biscuit. And a belly rub. But the thought seemed to make his mistress happy, so he supposed it made him happy, too. He nodded, as he’d seen so many humans do, and a small smile grew on his mistress’ face. It warmed him to know that he made her happy.

            Then, his mistress said the magic words. “Let’s get you some food.”

            The dog prince forgot all of his woes at the thought of a thick steak and a juicy bone. He practically skipped after her towards the dining room.

            What he saw when he arrived made him pause, though. Instead of a bowl of water on the floor and a plate of meat, there was a platter of food on the table—steak, green beans, potatoes, carrots, corn, all things he’d seen humans eat. His mistress motioned for him to take a seat at the end of the table, where a glass of water was waiting for him.

            Suddenly, he knew that this wasn’t going to be as simple as having dinner.

0000000

            The abandoned castle on the South bank of the river made Oliver uneasy. Barry had been the first to spot it when the top tower had first poked over the trees.

            “Who’s castle is that?” He’d asked. Snart and Rory had both shrugged, neither most likely having any knowledge of castles in the 9 kingdoms. Oliver, however, had been stumped. As a young prince, he’d been trained to know every castle in every kingdom: who they belonged to, how old they were, who built them, etc. This one, though, he’d never seen before in his life.

            There were few reasons that someone would build a secret castle, and none of them were pleasant. The way it loomed on the river bank made him uneasy the closer they came. He felt a _pull_ towards it, like there was something there important to him.

            Not even Joe’s shout of excitement at the bow of the ship was enough to break whatever spell the castle had over him.

            “I’ve got a bite!” The detective yelled. “I’ve got a bite!”

            He spared a look across the boat, and sure enough, in his hands, Joe West held a two-foot-long golden fish. Everyone stared at the fish in disbelief, knowing the odds of him actually catching the golden fish were almost impossible.

The fish seemed peeved, practically glaring at the detective as he looked it over. “Hey!” Joe nearly dropped it when it shouted at him. “If I grant you the golden touch, will you throw me back? I’m _dying_ out here!”

“I’d throw it back, Dad.” Iris agreed. Barry nodded, too, and Joe threw it back into the water with a sigh. That’s when he noticed his pinky finger glowing gold.

Well, technically, Snart was the first to notice it, right before Joe was about to touch the side of the boat. “No!” The criminal shouted, lunging to grab the detective’s wrist. “What are you trying to do, get us all killed?”

Iris and Barry’s jaws both dropped, and Oliver was officially done with the magic of the golden fish. If anyone on the boat would be responsible with the magic, Joe would. The man was almost _too_ responsible at times.

            Oliver’s attention went back to the castle, which was directly across from them now. The pull between him and the ruins were so strong now—it was like there was a string attaching his soul to something inside.

            “Oliver…?” He barely acknowledged Barry’s approach, his mind too focused elsewhere. “Oliver, are you okay?”

            _“I need to go to that castle.”_ Oliver realized, ignoring the widening of Barry’s eyes. _“I think_ I’m _in there—my real body. I have to leave.”_

            Barry stepped forward, like he was going to try and convince him to stay, but Oliver’s mind was made up. Before he even knew what he was doing, he was off the boat and in the river, swimming towards the shore with Barry shouting behind him. He glanced back for a moment to see Snart holding him back to stop him from jumping in after the dog. He was glad. Barry needed to find the mirror and go home. There was no reason for him to stay. In all honesty, Oliver regretted dragging him and his family this far into his problems. They were better of finding Sara Lance, getting the mirror, and going home.

0000000

            The dog prince had been left alone to practice eating like a human. He didn’t understand—why did humans eat in such complicated ways? Why use their hands and skinny pieces of metal to eat instead of using their mouths? His mistress had scolded him when he’d tried to eat his normal way.

            “You’re a prince now.” She fumed. “You will eat like a prince and act like a prince. Understood?”

            Honestly, he didn’t understand. He didn’t understand what was happening or what was going on, but he knew his mistress would be furious if he didn’t at least try to understand using ‘forks’ and ‘knives’. He’d been doing well. His mistress smiled at him as he picked up a green bean with his fork and ate it like she taught him.

            Then, another human entered the room. “My Queen.” He greeted. “Malcolm Merlyn is here. He wishes to speak with you.”

            His mistress’ smile evaporated. She ordered him, as politely as he’d ever heard her, to continue practicing, and that she’d return.

            That had been nearly ten minutes ago. The dog prince was just pushing his food around on his plate now, all of his poking and cutting making the food little more than a pile of mush.

            Something magical happened then. He heard a bark coming from one of the higher up windows. Without looking, he knew who it was, but it didn’t stop his heart from pounding in his chest when he spotted himself looking down at him. The dining room was in one of the lower chambers of the castle, meaning that his body was standing on the ground just outside.

            He waved up at himself, wanting nothing more than to reach up and touch his paw. _Oh how he missed his paws_. He knew that one touch would turn them back, just like it changed them the first time. His body seemed to have the same thought, pacing back and forth to find a way to get through. Then, his body barked once at him and ran, leaving behind a very heartbroken dog.

            Maybe he was just going to get help?

            Yes. That was it.

            His own body wouldn’t abandon him…

0000000

            Sometimes, Malcolm Merlyn hated the Queen. In fact, sometimes he wanted to kill her himself. But he knew that, without her, there would be no revenge on the Queens. He touched the cut on his cheek from where she’d slapped him for returning without Oliver and scowled as he stormed out of the castle. One day, he told himself. One day he wouldn’t need the Queen.

            He tromped down the pathway leading away from the castle. He knew that Oliver and his companions, after escaping the prison as his spies told him they did, took the river towards River Town, the largest port this close to the prison. They would have to stop there, if only for supplies. He’d catch up with them and ambush them there.

            He froze in his tracks when he heard a bark nearby.

0000000

Barry had ever been felt as mad as he had when Joe told him that they couldn’t go after Oliver. After all they’d been through, all they’d done. Oliver _needed_ him. He needed all of them. What if the Queen caught him? Who would protect him?

            “Barry,” Joe argued, rolling his eyes. “This woman is a psychotic witch with nothing to lose. What power do you have that could protect Oliver from that?”

            Barry glowered at his foster father, crossing his arms across his chest. “The least I could do is try.”

            That’s when Iris stepped in to play devil’s advocate, the same way he would if their roles were reversed. “I think what Dad is saying, Bare, is that you’ve done all you can to protect Oliver. But, clearly, he wants to be on his own. He knows how important the mirror is to us, which is why he didn’t ask us to take him to the castle ourselves. He _wants_ us to go home.”

            Eventually, with the River Town port in view, Barry gave in. They were probably right anyway. If Oliver needed their help, he would’ve said. He was content with knowing that he’d done everything he could for the prince.

0000000

            Joe, however, knew his foster son well enough to know that he hadn’t given up quite so easily. The moment they made port at River Town, the young man’s eyes were darting around at knee level, and Joe knew that he was just waiting for some sign of the golden retriever.

            He sighed. “Bare…”

            “Fifteen minutes.” Barry cut him off. There it was. “Just give me fifteen minutes to look for him. I can’t leave Oliver out here by himself. No one but the two of us understand him, and we’re the only ones that know the truth besides the Queen.”

            Rory and Snart both looked like they’d rather swallow rusted nails, and Iris was torn between going after Sara and helping. He looked between them all with the biggest puppy dog eyes that, the minute they focused on Joe, he knew he wouldn’t be able to say no.

            Finally, he hung his head. “Fine. Fifteen minutes. We’ll split up—half of us go track down where the mirror went, the other half goes to find Oliver. No matter what, we meet back here in fifteen minutes.”

            They all nodded in agreement, even if Barry did so reluctantly. Iris and Snart split off to ask around about the mirror, while he, Barry, and Rory went searching for Oliver.

            Rory headed for the edge of the forest to try and sniff him out, while Barry walked through River Town to see if anyone had seen him. Joe decided to take the docks.

            He searched for nearly ten minutes, calling for the dog and asking around, but there was no sign of him. Then, he heard his name being yelled.

            _“Joe!”_

            He turned to see Oliver running towards him, darting through people’s legs to get to him. Joe’s police training kicked in. People don’t usually run unless they are being chased—even princes-turned-dogs. That’s when he noticed the black hooded man on Oliver’s heels.

Malcolm Merlyn.

Joe had a new swell of hatred for the man after what he’d done—and been planning to do—to Barry. The magic in his finger tingled, and Joe knew what he had to do.

0000000

Barry was worried. First, he’d been worried about Oliver after running off like he had. Now, he was worried about Joe. One look at his watch told him that it’d been at least thirty minutes since they’d split up, and he was the only one that hadn’t made it back yet.

            Len and Iris came back almost exactly fifteen minutes after they’d split up (according to Mick, Len had a very precise mind for time), saying that a cart had left River Town half an hour before they arrived and headed down the main road through the forest. So, they waited for Joe to come back, hopefully with Oliver.

            As the minutes passed, Barry started getting more and more anxious. He was about to suggest they go and search for him, when he was a familiar face running towards them.

            “Joe!” He exclaimed when his foster father slowed to a stop in front of them. “Did you find Oliver?”

            Joe rested his hands on his hips, and Barry frowned. His finger was glowing gold anymore. “What happened?”

            A nervous expression grew on the detective’s face. “Well, Malcolm Merlyn caught up with us, but I took care of it.” Barry was about to laugh joyfully, when Joe spoke again. “That’s the good news.”

            “What’s the bad news?” Iris asked, also noticing the unease in her father.

            Joe opened his mouth to respond, but instead shook his head and turned away, leading them back the way they came. They all followed silently, everyone now picking up on Joe’s tenseness. When he finally stopped, they all understood why.

            Standing in front of them was Malcolm Merlyn, lunging for Oliver, his fingers barely brushing against his fur. Oliver was running in the other direction, clearly trying to escape. It was very hard to look at, though, because the sun was reflecting off of their skin. Their _solid gold_ skin.

            “Oh, Oliver…” Barry sighed at his friend, now a golden statue.

            When he glanced over at Joe, the detective had a guilty look. “On the plus side, I think he’ll break away from him pretty easily.” 

**  
**

**TO BE CONTINUED…**


	2. Flowers Only Grow Where There Are Seeds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> IF YOU ARE READING THIS, YOU ARE TRESPASSING.  
> ALL TRESPASSERS WILL BE CONSIDERED POACHERS.  
> ALL POACHERS WILL BE KILLED.   
> BY ORDER OF THE HUNTSMAN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not even halfway done with part 3 yet, so please bear with me.

**Book 2: Flowers Grow Where There Are Seeds**

**“Everyone is a moon, and has a dark side which he never shows to anybody.”**

**― Mark Twain**

 

            If there was one thing that the Queen hated, it was incompetence. She’d believed when Malcolm Merlyn joined her cause, his prowess as King of the Assassins would be enough to secure her plan. Now, however, he’d proven himself useless. Not to mention that Leonard Snart and Mick Rory betrayed her. She’d thought that, if she focused her magic on Mick, she’d be able to keep him under her thumb. But her grip on the wolf was slipping. Somehow, he was able to fight her power over him.

            Her ears perked when she heard near silent footsteps approach behind her. A small smile stretched on her lips. Finally, someone that wouldn’t fail.

            “Neither wolf, criminal, nor assassin has succeeded in bringing Oliver to me.” When she turned, the man was kneeling at her feet, his head bowed low. “Someone is testing me. My mirrors tell me that Oliver and his companions have left River Town, and that they plan to take the main road through your forest.”

            Slade Wilson was the keenest hunter in all of the 9 Kingdoms. He was her most loyal servant and her deadliest force. He rose to his feet. “Whoever tests you, my Queen, will fail. And the prince is as good as yours. No one escapes the Huntsman.”

            Slade bowed once more before striding out of the castle, crossbow in hand. The Queen felt all of her tension melt away. Finally, some competence.

0000000

            “Guilt.” Iris proclaimed, sparing a glance back at her father and the small cart he dragged behind him. “That’s what this is.”

            Joe glared back at her half-heartedly. Honestly, despite his feelings about him, he did feel bad about the prince’s current situation. At least the golden finger was a one-off; he didn’t have to worry about accidentally turning anyone else into gold. Too bad it was at Oliver’s expense.

            Barry seemed to be the most distressed by the prince’s state. He was walking along beside the cart, frowning sadly down at the golden dog statue tied to the top. “Poor Oliver.” He sighed. “Joe, how could you?”

            “It was an accident.” Joe found himself explaining again. “I was trying to help him. I feel bad enough, Bare. What do you want me to do?”

“I think it helped.” Rory chuckled lowly. He and Snart both found the entire thing was hilarious. They continued making jokes and puns about Oliver’s condition, which Joe could tell was starting to really tick Barry off.

            His foster son fell silent, though, shaking his head as they walked. Joe’s attention shifted over to the two criminals walking at the back of their group, whispering amongst themselves. He didn’t know why the two of them hadn’t just left back at River Town. A gnawing in his stomach told him that the answer was walking next to his cart, and suddenly, he wished he hadn’t left his gun at home.

            He also wished that they’d gotten on the road sooner. As it was, this ‘Sara Lance’ was already at least six hours ahead of them on the main road into the forest. On foot, it would take them days to catch up with her and their mirror. It’d already been nearly two hours on the road, and they hadn’t passed a single person. If they only had each other to talk to, they weren’t going to all gripe at one another.

            “Look.” He huffed. “Bare, I didn’t purposely turn Oliver to gold. And yes, Iris, it is guilt making me drag this heavy ass statue around behind me, but I’m doing it because we’re gonna find a way to get him back.”

            Rory snorted. “Good luck with that.” He chuckled again. “Chances are, there isn’t even a prince left to get back. He’s gone the way of forest nymphs.”

            Barry’s eyes filled with distress, and Joe wondered why he even bothered sometimes. He didn’t even notice Iris stop until he almost ran smack into her back.

            An older woman with long, stringy gray hair carrying a bundle of sticks was approaching them on the path, a wide grin on her face.

            “Hello, my dears.” She greeted. She looked over Iris, then Joe and Oliver, spared a quick glance at Snart and Rory, before finally focusing entirely on Barry. Her eyes sparkled. “I have a lesson and a message for the six of you…well, five for now, I suppose.” Her eyes flickered to Oliver for a second before settling on Barry again. It made Joe want to push his son behind him.

            Barry, however, was one of those people that didn’t always see danger in anything. Instead, he smiled back at her. “What’s the lesson?”

            Snart and Rory both groaned, obviously eager to move on, but Iris swatted at them. For once, Joe sided with the criminals. The longer they hung around, the further away the mirror got.

            The woman motioned for all of them to watch as she handed Barry one of her sticks. “Break this.” He did, easily. She handed him another. “And this one.” Barry took it and broke it as easily as he had the first. They repeated this four more times, until the woman asked him to combine all of his broken pieces together and break them.

            Barry tried, but the bundle in his hand was too thick and didn’t even bend in his hands. He laughed. “I can’t.”

            The woman nodded. “Separate they break. Together they are strong. That is the lesson.”

            Snart scoffed. “Gee, that wasn’t a waste of time.”

            Joe found himself agreeing, but Barry acted like it was the most enlightening thing he’d ever heard. The woman started to walk away, but Iris reached out to stop her. “Wait, you said you had a message?”

            “Oh yes.” The woman chuckled. “What you are looking for travels up the main road through the forest. You cannot, though. You need to leave the path.”

            Snart stepped forward. “I don’t know what your game is, lady, but the main path is the only safe way through the forest.”

            She shook her head. “Not for you, Mr. Snart. You are all being tracked by someone that intends to kill you. You know who I speak of.” Snart froze in place. Without another word, the woman walked away.

Joe’s blood ran cold. He’d thought that, after stopping Malcolm Merlyn, their biggest worry would be finding the mirror. Now, there was someone else out there trying to kill them.

            “We need to get off the path.” Snart declared, heading directly for the trees. Joe wasn’t sure, but the criminal seemed scared. Rory followed him without a question, leaving Joe, Iris, and Barry on the path, sharing confused looks. Barry was the first to shrug and follow, Iris not far behind. Joe lingered for a moment, though.

            Snart knew more about this than he was letting on—how did the woman know his name? Why was he so afraid all of a sudden? What could drive him off of ‘the safest way through the forest’? He whistled low, knowing that they would only find trouble in the forest, but also knowing in his bones that they would find their deaths on the main pathway.

0000000

             

IF YOU ARE READING THIS, YOU ARE TRESPASSING.

ALL TRESPASSERS WILL BE CONSIDERED POACHERS.

ALL POACHERS WILL BE KILLED.

BY ORDER OF THE HUNTSMAN

           

            They hadn’t even trekked a mile into the forest when they saw the sign, surrounded by hanging arrays of animal carcasses. Barry raised an eyebrow. “Who is the Huntsman?”

            Len walked up beside him, his face almost completely blank, save for the concern lingering behind his eyes. “The Queen’s personal guard dog, and not someone we want to run into.” He said curtly, striding past the hanging animals without a second glance. Barry frowned, and a hand fell to his shoulder.

            “Don’t feel too bad, Doll.” Mick sighed. “Lenny isn’t exactly the most open human being ever.”

            “Does he know the Huntsman?”

            Mick’s hand slipped off his shoulder, and the wolf let out a low whistle. “Not too well, but he has his reasons for hating the Queen and her servants.” Without any other explanation, Mick followed Len.

            “Oh my god.” He turned to see Iris gagging as she stared at the dead animals. “What the hell? This place just keeps getting more and more gruesome.”

            Joe read over the sign again and again, obviously regretting his decision to follow the old woman’s advice and go through the forest.

0000000

            The Queen hadn’t expected so many speedbumps in her plan. When she decided to turn Oliver into a dog, she knew that, eventually, people would start looking for him. So, she’d sent a messenger with a letter to his council:

 

Dear all,

I regret to inform you like I have injured myself in a hunting accident. Nothing too serious, but I will be laid up in my hunting cabin until healed. I promise I will be healed and better, and return home before the coronation.

Your Prince,

Oliver Queen

           

            Most of the council believed her tale, all too caught up in the excitement of planning the coronation. There was one, though—Walter Steele, the man that helped to raise Oliver and his sister after the King and Queen’s deaths—who doubted her. Through her mirrors, she overheard the man’s plan to ride out and check on the prince’s health.

            If that wasn’t enough of a wrench in her plans, word had reached her ears of a faction within the Assassin Kingdom rising up in Merlyn’s absence led by a man named Damian Dahrk. The faction sought to conquer the 4th Kingdom during the prince’s disappearance.

She bit her lip in thought. Walter Steele could be easily taken care of—the road to the cabin cut through the Huntsman’s forest. One order to Slade, and Mr. Steele would say nothing. With Damian Dahrk attacking villages, though, it was only a matter of time before the council decided that they needed their prince. For now, however, she would monitor the situation. There was no reason to reveal herself, and there were far more pressing matters to attend to.

She stepped into the Dog Prince’s room to check on him, and a rare smile twitched onto her lips. Instead of lying in the bed like a human being, he was curled up at the end like a dog, shifting every few seconds to get comfortable. A small laugh escaped before the Queen approached the bed and patted him.

“You’ll be more comfortable sleeping like a man.” She explained, motioning for the head of the bed. An uncomfortable expression crossed the Dog Prince’s face, but he crawled up to the bed all the same and laid down, head on the pillows, on his back. She drew up the blankets in an almost motherly way and tucked her dog in. He sighed contently.

“Can I ask a question?” He asked, gazing up at her wide eyed. Indulging him, she sat on the edge of the bed. “Why were we in prison?”

She clasped her hands in her lap. “Well,” she began, “do you remember when I told you how I received my magic?”

He nodded. “From the woman in the swamp.”

His memory was a comfort. “She taught me everything I know—magic mirrors, manipulation, and, most importantly, poisons. They’re somewhat a specialty for me. I was hired as the nursemaid for the prince and princess, and over a course of two years, I slowly poisoned Queen Moira. Then, after her death, I comforted and, a year later, married King Robert, who remained blissfully unaware that I’d been slowly poisoning him as well until his death the next year. I started poisoning Prince Oliver after that, knowing that, being the full-blooded heir to the throne, he challenged my work and remained the only true descendent of the House of White.”

The dog smiled enthusiastically. “That’s me!”

“Yes.” The Queen nodded. “Before I could finish my work, however, I was caught. There is no death penalty, so I was sentenced to three thousand years in prison. That was thirteen years ago.” She brushed a lock of hair out of the Dog Prince’s eyes and rose to leave. “Now, I’m sure Oliver wishes he’d killed me.”

0000000

            Night fell fast over the forest, and it fell dark. The moon was a waxing gibbous, Barry knew, but the light didn’t even penetrate the canopy. Suddenly, he collided with someone stopped in front of him that felt a lot like Joe.

            “What’s wrong?” He asked. “Why have we stopped?”

            When he looked around his foster father, he was filled with relief. There were lights ahead in the trees. Maybe they were friendly travelers.

            Someone gripped his arm, like they could sense he was considering running towards the lights. “Careful.” Mick growled, giving Barry’s arm a small squeeze. They all snuck towards the lights as quietly as possible, Len leading the way. When they came to the bushes surrounding the small clearing where the encampment was, they all dropped to hide.

            In the clearing were dozens of tents and covered carts surrounding a bonfire. The people, all dressed in light, flowing clothing, danced around the fire while a group of about five played music. It reminded Barry of a scene from _The Wolfman_.

            “Gypsies.” Len whispered.

            Iris leaned forward. “What do we do?”

            Rustling around them drew Barry’s attention away from the gypsy camp, and he turned to see a man staring down at him. When he glanced around, he saw that they were all surrounded.

            The man standing in front of Barry smiled. “Join us, of course.”

            He glanced over to the others, who were all eyeing the gypsies suspiciously. After a few seconds, Len nodded and rose to his feet, sending everyone else a look to say that they should do the same. They followed the gypsies into camp and took seats around the fire.

            “Don’t turn away anything they offer you,” Len warned them all in a whisper. “But don’t eat anything you haven’t seen them eat first.”

            They all nodded in agreement as the man that had invited them passed them each a plate of food. Barry watched Joe flinch, but still dig into whatever meat was on the plate. He and Iris did the same, and Barry tried not to gag. It was stringy, and tasted a bit like a mixture of pork and chicken. It was not a pleasant combination.

            Mick seemed to be enjoying his whatever it was, while Len was picking at his.

            A young girl approached Barry and grabbed him by the hand, pulling him to his feet and into the circle of dancers around the bonfire. He followed the moves clumsily, laughing along with the little girl beside them as they danced. When he looked back at his family, Iris was clapping along with the music, while Joe argued with one of the gypsies about whether or not Oliver was made of pure gold, as opposed to being the cheap imitation Joe was trying to pass him off as.

            The music stopped abruptly when the door to one of the wooden wagons was thrown open, and a very old woman with long, silver hair and sharp eyes exited. “Get a table.” She ordered, her eyes fixed on Barry. “I will read our guests.”

0000000

            Mick’s mother had always taught him and his brothers and sisters not to trust strange people in the woods, especially gypsies. They were poachers that killed wolves and any other magical creature they could find if they thought that they could take its magic; not to mention what they did to those who crossed them. Watching the gypsy queen prepare a reading table for his companions, he felt that same distrust spike.

            She sat West down first, pulling out tarot cards and fanning them out on the table. She flipped one over. “I see wishes coming true for you and someone you care about.”

            West nodded. “Yeah, that was Barry and that coin…thing…”

            The gypsy pursed her lips and flipped another card. “I see heroism and a golden opportunity.”

            Mick glanced over at the golden dog statue at the edge of camp and chuckled. She hit that one on the nose.

            “And now, for your future…” She flipped one last card, and hummed. “You have kept a great secret from someone you love dearly.”

            From the way the detective suddenly stiffened, she hit quite the nerve. “You blanket your loved ones in lies to protect them from horrors, but before your task is complete, they will be found out.”

            When West rose from his seat, he was uncomfortable and practically shaking.

            Len was the next to be called. The gypsy queen reached out to take his hand in hers, though Mick was the only one to notice him flinch slightly. She traced the lines on his palm lightly. “You are not as cold as you lead those around you to believe.” She said with a raised eyebrow. “Those you love, you love deeply and unconditionally, though it’s difficult for you to open up after what happened with your father.”

            Len’s other hand clenched into a fist, and he tried to pull away, but the gypsy’s grip tightened. “Your sister…” Len froze in place. “She is happy and expecting. You fear someone from your past will find her, but it is the ones you love nearer to you that you should fear for. I see great danger for you…a one-eyed man standing over you in the darkness…so much bad luck…”

            This time, Len succeeded in pulling away his hand. He was paler than Mick had ever seen him as he practically jumped up from his seat and tramping silently to the edge of the clearing. Mick decided to give him an hour or so to cool down before going over to talk.

            When Iris was called up, Mick decided to head away from the table to check on Barry, who was wandering around one of the caravans. Hanging from the wooden roof were a little over a dozen bird cages.

            “Please set me free.” One of the birds begged, and Barry jumped back. Mick laughed at the kid’s shock.

            “They’re magical birds.”

Barry startled, but calmed when he noticed that Mick had walked up behind him.

            “Please set me free.” Another bird asked. “I have a nest full of eggs. I don’t know what will happen if I don’t return.”

            Barry frowned. “What are they going to do to them?”

            Mick shrugged. “Probably sell ‘em. A lot of people would pay a lot of money for magical birds. There’s an old superstition that killing and eating certain magical animals grants you magical powers.”

            Barry looked positively mortified. “That’s awful. How could anyone do that for such a horrible reason?”

            Mick smiled down at Barry, feeling a well of pride. The kid didn’t even know anything this world, but he still had a good sense of what was right and what was wrong. Killing magical creatures just for existing…it shouldn’t sit well with anyone.

 He took Barry by the hand and steered him away from the caravan and the pleading birds, knowing the kid was too soft a touch to listen to them beg for a rescue that wouldn’t come.

            “You, child.” The gypsy had apparently finished Iris’ reading while they’d been talking. Now her gaze was fixed on Barry.

            At first, Mick thought that he would say no, but a strange gleam appeared in his eye, and he took the seat across the table. The gypsy queen smiled and raised a pair of scissors.

            “I need a strand of your hair.”

            Barry frowned, but leaned forward enough so that the woman could cut a lock from his head. One of the other gypsies approached with a small bowl filled with pink liquid and placed it on the table. The gypsy queen sprinkled the hair inside. Mick watched with awe as it glittered and twinkled with magic.

            The gypsy queen inhaled sharply. “You have a great destiny that reaches back hundreds of years.” She announced. Barry laughed quietly.

            “I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m not exactly winning any prizes. I can’t even get a job as a CSI.”

            The gypsy shook her head. “You were brought here for a reason. There is a greatness around you—you are being protected from something. Something…painful. I see great love in your future, but also great loss. Someone you love very dearly will die.”

            Mick could almost _smell_ Barry’s distress. He growled. Why would that old crone tell him something like that? What kind of sick kicks was she after?

            He stomped to Barry’s side. “That’s enough.” He snarled, pulling Barry to his feet. The gypsy queen’s hand shot out to stop him, though, her fingers twisting in the fabric of his shirt. “I see a dark future for you as well.” She rose up from her seat with a challenging glare. “There is death…a youth torn to pieces…blood on your hands. I see a fire being built—you are going to burn on it.” Her eyes narrowed as she stepped into his space. “You’re not what you seem. You are a Wolf.”

            The gypsies around the camp all tensed, drawing their knives and crossbows. Typical. West and Iris shifted nervously where they now sat. He put on a brave façade, trying to push Barry behind him for protection. The gypsy queen’s eyes shifted over to the kid for a moment, and her demeanor calmed. She raised a hand, and the weapons were put away.

            “You must all stay the night with us. Friends must stay together in the dangerous forest.” Her grin was cutting, and the word ‘friend’ thrown loosely, but Mick knew it wasn’t the invitation it sounded like. They were staying the night, whether they wanted to or not.

0000000

            That night, Barry dreamed for the first time since he’d left home. He was lying on the bedroll the gypsies had offered him, resting his eyes, when he heard something out in the woods. He sat up, his eyes gazing over the camp, but everyone else was still asleep. Except that when he looked into the trees, Len was standing a few meters into the forest, staring at him. The criminal smiled at him and put a finger to his lips. Barry tilted his head curiously, but when Len gestured for him to follow him into the woods, he did so without question.

            When he reached the tree line, however, it was Mick now standing in the forest, waving him forward. Barry approached cautiously, though with each step he took, Mick seemed farther and farther away. Then, the wolf was gone.

            Barry frowned, searching around for some sign of him or Len, but there was no one there. When he looked behind him, he realized he was far from the camp—too far to see it in the pitch black night. He swallowed hard, and turned back again. He nearly screamed when Mick was back in front of him.

            “Mick…what are we doing so far from camp?” When had his voice turned so breathy? He shivered when he noticed there were only a few inches between them. “Where’s Len?”

            Suddenly, but oh so slowly, there were hands sliding over Barry’s hips, and a warmth pressed against him from behind. “Right here, Scarlet.” Len whispered huskily into his ear, resting his chin in the crook of Barry’s neck.

            Breathing became something Barry was finding hard to do, all of a sudden. He heard himself panting as Mick stepped forward so that their chests were touching and their lips just a breath apart. Len’s hands slipped lower, and he sucked Barry’s earlobe between his teeth.

            Barry whimpered, his eyes slipped closed as Mick leaned forward to brush their lips together…

           

            He awoke suddenly a hand over his mouth and Joe kneeling over him. That was enough to kill whatever mood his mind had been cooking up. Joe removed his hand slowly, signaling for Barry to be quiet. It was a little before daybreak, the gypsies were still all asleep, and Iris, Len, and Mick were collecting all of their belongings. Apparently, they weren’t staying for breakfast. Barry picked up his backpack, which he’d been using as a pillow, and slung it over his shoulder as quietly as possible.

            Then, the birds on the caravan caught his eyes, same as they had the night before. Mick told him that the gypsies would sell them or eat them—both seemed like horrible choices to Barry. So, while everyone else was preparing to leave, he made his choice.

            The first couple of cages were easy to open and low enough that Barry could do so without stretching. The rest, however, were much higher.

            “Barry!” He heard Joe hiss as he moved along to the last three cages. He released the latch on two, but the last one was right above a pile of junk.

            “Scarlet, don’t!” Len was now whispering at him too, but he _had_ too. There was only one bird left, and it was the one with the eggs back home. Barry couldn’t leave her. His fingers just touched the latch…and it came free.

            He grinned brightly as the bird flew away with a quick thank you. He didn’t realize, however, that his foot was caught on some of the junk until he moved away. The pile fell loudly, and Barry watched in terror as the gypsies all started to wake up.

            “BARRY, RUN!” Len yelled, and he didn’t need to hear it twice. He followed his companions into the trees. There was thunderous footfall behind him, and he dared to glance back once to see how close the pursuers were. He didn’t notice the arm in front of him until it wrapped around his waist, and he was pulled down into the bushes.

            Len put a hand over Barry’s mouth, and his arm tight around his waist as the gypsies came into view.

            “Come back!” The gypsy queen’s voice called from the camp. “They’re gone! Return to camp!”

            The group of gypsies responded almost instantly, and Barry melted in relief. Then, he thought about the position he was in with Len, back to chest and practically in his lap, and how similar it was to his dream. His cheeks heated up as he pulled away from the criminal and tumbled out of the bushes. Across from him, Iris and Mick were helping Joe out of bushes of their own.

            “Why did she call them back?” Len asked, gazing back towards the camp.

            Joe, who was fighting to get Oliver out of the bushes, stopped. “You don’t think that she’s given up.”

            Len shook his head. “No, I don’t.”

0000000

            Iris was the first one to notice it. They’d been travelling for hours, keeping one eye behind them the entire way just in case the gypsy queen decided to send someone after them anyway. Len hadn’t relaxed since they’d gotten away. Of course, by Iris’ observations, the guy never seemed to relax. Now, though, he was walking far ahead of them, his head darting around at every sound, like he was just waiting for someone to jump out of the trees and ambush them.

            Barry was walking directly in front of her with her father, who was dragging Oliver behind him. There was something different about him, though. Usually, when she walked behind him, she could see the weird freckle in his hairline that she swore was shaped like Florida. Now, though, his hair was covering it. In fact, his hair was almost two inches lower than she’d thought it was.

            “Barry…” She called to her foster brother, “have you done something different to your hair?”

            Barry turned to frown at her. “No…there’s not exactly a barber out in the middle of the forest. Why?”

            She shrugged. “Your hair just seems different. Like it’s longer.”

            Len practically skidded to a stop ahead of them. Mick, who’d been walking behind Iris, rushed forward and grabbed Barry by the shoulders to get a better look.

“Snart…” Len was almost at his side in seconds. Iris shared a confused look with her dad, who seemed both hesitant about the two criminals being so close to Barry, and eager for them to tell him what was going on.

When Len finally told them, Iris almost wished he hadn’t. “The gypsy queen cursed Barry.”

“What?!?”  

“Remember the lock of hair she took during the readings?”

Barry’s jaw dropped, and Iris’ heart nearly stopped. She knew that the gypsies had been upset about Barry letting the birds go, but to curse him for it? What would it do to him? She tried not to panic. She had to remain calm, if for nothing more than Barry’s sake.

“The curse will probably make your hair continue to grow and grow until it’s so long, you’ll wish you were dead.” Len continued. Barry paled, clearly freaking out, so Iris stepped forward.

“Well, I mean, something has to be able to stop it, right?” She argued. “There has to be some way to break the curse.”

Len glanced over at Mick, who shook his head. “Curses like these,” the wolf explained, “they can only be broken by destroying whatever is cursed. We’d have to cut off all of his hair.”

“Then cut it, before it gets too long!” Barry squealed. Iris couldn’t blame him for panicking. It’s bad enough that they were trapped in a fairy tale world, tromping through the forest with a madman chasing them, but now being cursed?

Len drew a long knife from his boot and raised it to Barry’s hair, which had grown another inch since they started talking. He pulled a strand out and began sawing into it. The hair stayed. He sawed harder. Still, no change.

After about five minutes of trying, they all came to the same conclusion. Barry’s cursed hair couldn’t be cut, and it was growing fast.

0000000

“This never would’ve happened if you hadn’t been playing ‘St. Francis and the birds’!” Joe shouted over the wind, stumbling to pull more of Barry’s hair into his arms. A storm came over them once night fell, blowing Barry’s now-dragging hair. Joe and Len were both scooped it up to hold it, but the wind kept whipping it out of their hands and into their faces.

Barry was so embarrassed. Of everyone that could’ve been cursed, it was him. Why couldn’t Iris or Len or someone get the bad luck? And Joe wouldn’t let him forget that, if he’d left the birds alone, he wouldn’t be turning into the live action version of Tangled.

He ignored Joe’s jab. “We can’t keep going! OW!” He glared back at Len and Joe as best he could.

“Barry’s right!” Iris agreed, blocking the blowing dirt from her eyes. “We need to find shelter.”

Barry barely heard Joe’s scoff, but he could picture the annoyed look of disbelief on his face. “How are we going to find shelter in the middle of the forest?”

Like a message from God, lightning lit up the forest, revealing, not even a quarter of a mile away, an abandoned cottage. The sight of it filled Barry with both hope and fatigue. Mick, who’d been voluntold into pulling Oliver, led the way to the cottage. The wood of the door had warped from years of weathering and disrepair, so the wolf had to force it open, but once inside, Barry felt almost at home.

The cottage was large in space, but everything was tiny—the cups, the chairs, the lanterns lined against the wall. It was clear from the graffiti on the walls that no one had lived in the cottage in years, but it all felt so welcoming and familiar to Barry.

“Hey, guys?” He heard Iris call from upstairs. They climbed the small stairs to an attic-like space that seemed to have doubled as a bedroom. The beds were the size of toddler beds, with names carved on the headboards that long since had eroded. Mick was the first to get it, his face filling with excitement that Barry had never seen on the wolf’s face.

“No way.” A smile broke across his face. “No fucking way.”

Barry frowned. “What? What is it?”

“Count the beds, Doll.” Mick explained with a laugh. “The beds, the lanterns, everything here!”

            Barry furrowed his brow, but counted the bed. One…two…three…four…five…six… He grinned. In fact, he jumped in excitement. “Oh my gosh, we’re in Snow White’s cottage!”

            Iris’ jaw dropped. “No way! This is the seven dwarves’ house? Like, Grumpy, Sneezy, Dopey?”

            A confused expression crossed Mick’s face. “That’s not what they were called, but yeah. Snow White lived here for years, hiding out from the queen.”

Len snorted. “Kind of ironic, since we’re hiding from the Queen’s man with her grandson.”

Barry gasped. He’d forgotten that Oliver was Snow White’s grandson. Too bad he was gold; he probably would’ve loved to see his grandmother’s cottage.

“I thought this place was lost years ago.” Mick whispered to himself. Barry laughed. He’d never seen Mick get so excited about something. Len, on the other hand, appeared to not give a crap.

“Yeah, it’s great.” He snorted, turning to go back downstairs. The rest of them followed, only to find Joe making a fire in the mantle. One glare told them not to fight him on it.

They all settled around the room—Joe in a regular sized rocking chair beside the fire that Barry suspected belonged to Snow White herself with Oliver situated next to it; Iris sat at his feet, her head leaned against her father’s knee; Mick sitting on one of the stools from the kitchen table, using said table as a backrest; and Len and Barry both laid out in front of the fire, the former helping to dry out the magical hair so Barry wouldn’t get a cold head.

They sat quietly, everyone lost in their own thoughts and the crackle of the fire, until Joe finally spoke up. “Now, here’s a question I never thought I’d find myself asking.” He said, leaning back in his chair. “What happened to Snow White after she married the prince?”

            Mick glanced over at Len, and settled in like he’d heard the story a thousand times before. The criminal sighed. “She became a great queen, one of the five women who changed history.” He explained, toying with a piece of Barry’s hair.

            “Wait,” Iris spoke up. “Five _women_?”

            Len nodded. “Snow White, Cinderella, Gretel the Great, Rapunzel, and Queen Riding Hood. They formed the first five kingdoms and brought peace to the land. But that’s all over now. The only one still alive is Cinderella, but she’s over two-hundred years old and hasn’t been seen in nearly forty years.

            “Happily ever after is dead.” He finished. “If it ever existed in the first place.”

            Barry listened, enwrapped in the story. He thought back to the Grimm’s Fairy Tale book his mother used to read to him, and how much darker they all seemed now that he realized that everything was real.

            They all stayed up in companionable silence for about another hour. Then, Iris excused herself to go upstairs and sleep, while Joe settled in his chair, and Mick dozed off leaned against one of the cabinets.

            Len and Barry stayed in their spots by the fire, the latter still attempting to dry his cursed hair and the former watching with rapt interest.

            “Where’s your mother?”

            Barry froze. The question came completely out of left field, and he wasn’t completely sure what had prompted Len to ask it. But the criminal’s eyes were boring into him, filled with curiosity, and really, what was wrong with him wanting to know?

            “I mean,” He continued, “I know your foster family here, and Mick and I became quite acquainted with your father—” Barry snorted. _That was one way to put it._ “—but you don’t even mention your mother.”

            Barry swallowed hard. “My mom died.” Suddenly, it was like all the grief he had was a weight on him. He hadn’t thought about his mother, _really thought about his mother_ , in so long. “When I was eight, she crashed into the river by Central City Park. I don’t really remember it, just that afterwards, I started living with Joe because my dad couldn’t handle it. They thought it was for the best.”

            “Something tells me that they decide what’s best for you a lot without your consent.” Len said, resting his chin onto his knees and raised an eyebrow, like he was waiting for more of an explanation. When there wasn’t, he reached over to stroke some of the hair closer to Barry’s head. “I get it. My dad worked for the Queen.”

            Barry almost choked on his own spit, but he knew better than to interrupt when Len was being so open about himself. “He was a nobleman that stood behind her after she murdered the King and Queen. He’s dead now, but he used to beat my sister and I horribly, until I took her and ran as far away as I could. For a long time, I didn’t think we could trust anyone. Then, Mick found us, lost and starving in the woods, being hunted down by the Queen’s men. He saved our lives.

             “We all travelled together and thieved together for a long time, but Lisa eventually met someone that made her happy and moved on to settle with him.” The criminal’s eyes darted over to where Mick was sprawled in sleep, a fond expression on his face. “I could never leave Mick, not that I think he always believes that. But if I believed in happy ever afters, Mick would be mine. We would both kill and die for each other, which is something I never thought either of us would feel for anyone else.”

            When he looked back at Barry, his eyes were filled with such raw emotion, Barry almost wondered if he was talking to the same man. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that you can’t let the dark things in your past hold you back. You’re the one that has to go on.”

            Barry let out a low whistle. “Wow. I think that’s the most open you’ve ever been with me.” He thought he saw the corner of Len’s mouth twitch up, which he counted as a win.

            They fell into silence after that; Barry thinking hard on Len’s words, Len staring into the fire like it held some answer for him. They stayed that way until Barry’s finally gave in to his fatigue and fell asleep in front of the fire. He was awoken a few hours later by a shrill scream.

“Barry!”

He sat up with a jolt, along with everyone else in the room. The sun was shining through the window now, the fire now just a cold, burnt out log, and Barry gaped at the cause of the scream. His hair was _everywhere_. On the counters, down the hall—he and Len had both slept curled up in it!

Iris stood halfway down the stairs, a look of horror on her face. “It’s growing up the stairs!”

0000000

The gypsies had been packing up their camp, mourning the loss of their merchandise, when the first bolt hit a nearby tree. One of the older gypsies approached it, pulling a letter tied to it free. Their hearts all went cold when he read the words aloud:

ALL POACHERS WILL BE KILLED

BY ORDER OF THE HUNTSMAN

The next bolt hit the man directly in the heart, and they all knew it was too late to run.

He was already there.

0000000

Len knew when Barry’s hair broke the hedge clippers they found in the cottage that there was no normal instrument that was going to cut it. West threw them to the ground in frustration.

“Nothing can cut this hair!” He announced, throwing his arms in the air.

            Barry’s eyes widened. “What if it never stops growing? What if I literally die from long hair?” He stopped, his eyes widening. “Oh my god, I can actually _feel it_ still growing!”

            One glance down told Len that Barry wasn’t crazy—his hair actually had grown almost half a foot since they started trying to cut it. Barry noticed him eyeing it and cringed. “How long is it?”

            “Don’t ask.” By estimation, he guessed that it was about twenty-three yards long. Barry didn’t need to know that, though. “I hate to say it, but we need to keep moving. We aren’t going to find a way to break your curse here, and we’re still being tracked.” He bent down to pick up a section of hair, and Iris did the same. They moved out, leaving Snow White’s cottage far behind them.

            “Ow!” Barry yelped for the third time since they left the cottage. “You keep pulling it!” It was taking forever to move while carrying Barry’s hair. There had to be a better way.

            Suddenly, Mick froze in place. He tilted his head up and breathed in deep, and again. Barry, West, and Iris all watched curiously, while Len was already searching the area.

            “Whatcha got, Mick?” He asked, drawing his hunting knife.

            The wolf sniffed one more time. “It’s the Huntsman.” He growled. “He’s close on our trail.”

            “What?” West frowned. “How’d you not smell him earlier?”                          

            “The Huntsman is very well trained.” Len explained, shifting nervously from foot to foot. “If he knows Mick is with us, he would’ve hidden his scent accordingly. What we need to worry about is what we do now.”

            “Well, running is out of the question.” Iris pointed out, holding up the pile of hair in her hands.

            “So we hide.” Len decided. “Mick and I will bury you three and the prince, lead the Huntsman away, and then come back for you.”

            Mick nodded in agreement, but West snorted. “And how do we know that you’ll come back? Or that you won’t lead the Huntsman right to us?”

            Man, they did not have time for this. Len rubbed a hand over his head nervously. “Fine. _You_ go with Mick. I’ll get buried with Iris and Barry. The Huntsman hates me more than the rest of you, so I’d have no motive in betraying our location.”

            Barry frowned, like he wanted to ask Len what he meant, but the kid was smart and kept quiet.

            While West didn’t seem to like the new plan much better, they were running out of time. If Mick could smell him, that means that Slade was probably a little over an hour away. If they were going to do this, it needed to be _now._

            It took that hour to get the three of them settled and buried. They buried Oliver first, digging a grave-like hole and hiding the gold under dirt. Then, they dug shallow holes long enough and just deep enough for them to lay in. Once they were ready, West and Mick laid layers of sticks and leaves over the tops, effectively hiding them. Before he covered Len’s face, Mick leaned down to kiss him deeply.

            “Be safe.” He whispered solemnly. They both knew what Slade Wilson would do if he caught him.

            Len nodded. “You, too.”

            After West and Mick ran off, it took only half an hour for Slade to appear. Len held his breath, knowing that the others were doing the same. Slade Wilson was a terrifying man. Len had only met him once before, after he and Lisa had run away. The Queen had sent him to find them, which of course he had. Len had only been twenty at the time, and Lisa only eleven. Slade found them in less than a day, threatening to shoot one of them if both didn’t come.

            “Lewis only needs one of ya.” He’d growled, moving his crossbow between them. “I may just kill one just for the hell of it.”

            But before the Huntsman acted on his threat, someone had tackled him from behind. That was the first time Mick had saved his life, and Len saved his by stabbing Slade in the face with one of his own arrows.

            Now, looking through the gaps in the leaves over him, Len could see the scar under his eye where the arrow had hit. He smirked at the thought that he put it there.

            Slade moved through the clearing, eyes analyzing everything. He knelt down, and, for a moment, Len thought he’d found Barry or Iris. His hand tightened around the handle of his knife, ready for a fight. But then, the Huntsman stood up to follow the trail that Mick and Joe left for him to find. His hand relaxed.

            Until a sneeze echoed through the clearing.

            He knew Slade heard it. There was no way he didn’t know where they were now. There was only one thing they could do.

            “Run!” He shouted, jumping up from his hiding place and taking off into the woods. Barry and Iris both bolted up from their holes and followed. Or at least, he thought they were both behind him. It wasn’t until they were a good mile away and Len skidded to a stop to catch his breath, Iris stopping right beside him, that he noticed something was wrong.

            “Where’s Barry?”

0000000

            Barry knew that the gypsy curse was going to get him killed. That’s probably what she had intended when she cursed him, but he didn’t think it would happen this way. He’d been running behind Len and Iris, struggling to keep a hold on his hair, when a sharp tug jerked against his scalp and pulled him to the ground.

            He looked back to see the Huntsman’s foot on the hair that had been dragging behind him, a bone-chilling smirk on his face. “Gotcha.”

            The Huntsman reached down and grabbed Barry by the hair on his scalp. Barry hissed in pain as he was pulled up to his feet and dragged behind the Huntsman.

            “HELP!” He screamed, hoping that someone was close enough to hear. “HELP ME!”

            But no help came. He was led away, past the gypsy camp, now filled with dead bodies, deeper and deeper into the forest, until the Huntsman pulled him to a stop in front of a very large tree. He raised a fist and knocked once on the trunk, and a door opened in the wood.

            Barry fought harder against the Huntsman, but it was useless. He was dragged inside, long hair and all, to be held at the Huntsman’s mercy, and no one knew where he even was.

0000000

            Joe had been away from his kids for close to an hour and a half—which was an hour and a half longer than he wanted to be separated from them in this crazy world. What was he thinking agreeing to run off with Rory instead of staying with them?

            Rory suddenly came to a stop, sniffing the air around him with a frown.

            “What?” Joe asked, not liking the look on the wolf’s face.

            “The Huntsman’s scent is gone. He isn’t following us.” He gave Joe a worried look that the detective was almost positive was reflected on his face.

            “Why wouldn’t he do that?” Joe knew the answer, but he couldn’t assume…

            Rory looked back. “He found them.” Without another word, the wolf sprinted back in the direction they came, Joe not too far behind. He tried to think positively as they ran for their loved ones: there were three of them and only one Huntsman. He needed them alive to tell him where Oliver was. Chances were that he could only catch one of them—that is, if he didn’t just kill the other two. It only takes one person to give information…no.

Barry and Iris were alive.

Maybe he took Snart instead of his kids? After all, he seemed more familiar with Snart, and there was no real reason to hurt Barry or Iris.

            They continued running at full speed. Joe pushed past his endurance, knowing that his kids needed him, and for God’s sake, he was going to find them. When Rory stopped again, Joe almost slammed right into him.

            He sniffed the air. “They’re close.” He growled, moving slowly towards a grove of trees nearby. He stopped again, clearly relieved. “Lenny! It’s me!”

            Snart stepped out from behind a nearby tree, tired and out of breath, but no worse for wear. Iris came out from the tree beside his. The moment she saw Joe, she ran into his arms.

            “Dad, he took him.” She whispered into his neck. She stepped away and let out a shaky breath. “The Huntsman took Barry.”

            Fury ignited in Joe’s stomach—the fury of a parent protecting their child—and he saw red as he stormed towards Snart. Rory snarled as Joe pushed the criminal against a nearby tree by his collar, but he ignored him.

            “You said you’d protect them.” He hissed in a voice he’d never heard himself use before. “Now my son is in the hands of a madman because of _you_.”

            “You think I don’t know that, West?” Snart growled back, pushing the detective back. “You think I didn’t want to go back the minute I noticed he was gone? But then it may have been both of your kids instead of just Barry. So, instead of fighting, let’s all think about how we’re going to save him.”

            The criminal pushed away from the tree and ran a hand down his face. “Slade Wilson has a hideout somewhere in the forest. Everyone knows this, but only he knows where it is. That’s where he’ll be keeping Barry. We need to find it if we’re going to save him.”

            Mick snorted. “Find a hidden lair somewhere in the thousand-mile forest. You make it sound so easy.”

            “Perhaps it is.”

They all jumped at the voice, until the sound of fluttering wings drew their attention to a branch above them, where a familiar looking bird was perched. One of the magical birds Barry saved from the gypsies.

            “Since Barry Allen saved my life, I would like to help both him and all of you.” The bird shifted from foot to foot excitedly. “There is a woodsman in this forest with a magical axe. It is said to have the ability to cut through anything, including cursed hair. If he doesn’t cut it soon, the curse will kill him.”

            Joe clenched his fists. He was tired of things in this world almost killing his kids.

            “Unfortunately, if you don’t go to find it now, the woodsman will finish his work, and you may never see him again. However, the lair where Barry Allen is being kept is in the opposite direction. I can lead you to it.”

A decision. Choose between saving Barry from the present danger or a future danger. “There are four of us.” Joe decided. “We’ll split up. Two of us find the axe, two of us find Barry.”

            Snart nodded in agreement. “I’ll find Barry.”

            Joe withheld a disapproving noise. “I’ll go with you. Iris, you and Rory find the woodsman.”

Iris shook her head. “No. I’ll go with Len. You go with Mick.”

            Joe scoffed. “Like hell. This man already has one of my kids; do you honestly think I’m gonna let him get another?”

            “Dad,” She argued, “I’m the reason Barry got caught. I sneezed and gave away where we were hiding. It’s my fault, and I’m going to help save him.”

            Joe clenched his fists. He knew that stubborn gleam in Iris’ eyes. She wasn’t going to give this up, and Barry didn’t have time for them to argue. He glared at Snart, trying to convey ‘if anything happens to her, I’ll make sure worse happens to you’. He seemed to get the message, even conveying one of his own about Rory.

As long as they were in agreement.

Rory pulled Snart to the side before they split up, a serious expression on his face. “Lenny,” Joe overheard, “are you sure about this—facing Slade without me?”

Snart gave him a small nod. “I’m not a kid anymore, Mick. And I’ll be damned if I’m going to cower for that son of a bitch ever again.”

Rory seemed…not exactly pleased, but accepting of the answer at least. The wolf stepped away towards Joe, and Iris turned her attention back to the bird.

“Lead us to my brother.”

000000

            The Huntsman pulled Barry by his arm through the main room, which was filled with all array of knives, bows and arrows, and hunting traps, and up the spiral staircase hidden inside the tree until they reached a room at the top with a round window. He was thrown harshly to the floor the minute they stepped inside, and Barry tried to move away. Another foot to his hair put an end to that.

            The Huntsman grabbed two restraints chained to the wall and locked them around Barry’s wrists with a dark smirk. Then, he settled back to look his prey over.

            “So, you’re the one that’s been evading Malcolm Merlyn.” His accent was thick. “You don’t look like much. Who are you?”

            Barry shook his head. “I’m nobody.”

            “Somehow, I doubt that.” The Huntsman chuckled. He settled back in his chair. “I was lived in this forest for many years. I hunted for my family in the winter, like all the other man, and lived happily. Then, the Queen came into the forest with this.” He drew his crossbow. It was elegant—dark wood carved into the shape of a bird’s head with two rubies for eyes. “She explained that any bolt fired from this would never stop until it reached the heart of a living thing.”

            He stared at the crossbow as though entranced. “I asked what I’d have to do for such a bow. ‘Point it in any direction and fire.’ I was confused by her condition, but did as she asked.”

He paused. “The bolt ended up in the heart of my youngest son, Joe. When I laid my son’s body at her feet, The Queen declared me her Huntsman. She knew that I would show no mercy, that I would never let anything stand in the way of my hunt.”

            He leaned forward and pointed the bow, point blank, at Barry’s heart. “So, you see, I will have no problem firing this directly into your heart if you don’t give me the answers I want. Where is Oliver Queen?”

            Barry swallowed hard. “I—I—” He stammered. “I think he’s dead.”

            No use in being hopefully optimistic now. Especially not when he was probably about to follow Oliver into death. The Huntsman frowned.

            “You aren’t lying. There were marks from a cart being dragged, too heavy for a dog. What’s wrong with him?”

            His voice wasn’t concerned, just curious, which made Barry even more uncomfortable than he thought he could be. “I…I don’t know.”

            Slade tilted his head and rose to his feet silently. “The others.” He growled. “Snart, Rory, your other friends. Will they come looking for you?”

            Yes. Joe and Iris would never leave him. “No. They don’t give a damn about me.”

            Slade nodded. “So they’ll come.”

            Damn it.

            “Besides Snart’s little knife, do they have any weapons?”

            How could he lie to someone that could see right through him? He tried convincing himself that he was telling the truth. “Yes.”

            “So, no other weapons.” Suddenly, the Huntsman was right in front of him, a knife at his throat. “I have business on the other side of the forest for the Queen. If you try to escape, I will know. And I will kill you.”

            He backed away and marched back down the stairs, leaving Barry alone in his lair with no way to get out or call for help. All he could really focus on was how heavy his hair was against his scalp, and how he hoped that his friends found him before the Huntsman found them.

0000000

            The Queen watched with her mirrors as Walter Steele rode towards Prince Oliver’s hunting cabin. The councilman dismounted his horse and wandered around the grounds for several minutes, knocking on the door and peeking through the windows for any sign of life. When he found none, the man shook his head.

            “I knew it.” He thought aloud. “Something is wrong.”

            The Queen grinned. He really had no idea.

            He climbed back on his horse and rode back into the forest to deliver his message—the prince was missing. But the Queen knew he wouldn’t make it that far. Before he even left the grounds, a bolt fired from the tree line, striking Walter in the heart and knocking him free from his horse. The Queen waved away the image of Walter Steele’s last moments. There was no surviving Slade Wilson’s bolts. Now, it was time to focus on more important issues.

            “Mirror.” The Queen commanded. “Call Damian Dahrk. Tell him that I wish to speak to him immediately.”

            The glass shimmered. She could catch glimmers of the environment around Damian Dahrk—peasants running, houses burning, arrows firing. She knew that he’d already conquered Beantown on the border of the two kingdoms, as well as every small village within a twenty-mile radius. It was getting out of hand. He was waiting for a challenge from Prince Oliver that would never come.

            Finally, an image appeared on the mirror of a white haired, blue eyed man in assassin’s garb. He was rubbing his temples, probably from the pain the mirror gave whenever it was kept waiting. His startled when he realized who had contacted him.

            “So,” He smirked. “You really did escape.”

            The Queen gave a respectful bow. “With help from your king. Tell me, Mr. Dahrk, why are you attacking the 4th Kingdom?”

            “To rule it.” Dahrk scoffed. “I thought that, of all people, you’d understand that.”

            She nodded. “Of course. My ways are just more…subtle. Which brings me to why I’ve called: this war you’re waging is interfering with my plans.”

            Dahrk laughed. “I’ve noticed your ‘plans’. You escape, then suddenly the prince is nowhere to be found, and Malcolm Merlyn has disappeared?”

            “I assure you, I have no idea where Malcolm could possibly be.”

            “I believe you.” Dahrk assured. “But it’s so much easier conquering a kingdom with no royalty to fight back for it.”

            The Queen resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Men in power could be so short sighted and egotistical. “You do realize that, should you continue, the young princess, Thea, has proven herself a capable fighter and leader? She will lead an army to crush you and your forces. However, if you withdraw now, I will promise you the half of the 4th Kingdom originally promised to Malcolm.”

            Dahrk’s eyebrows shot up. “Half of the entire 4th Kingdom. You’re going to have to let me think on that.”

            The Queen took a deep breath. “Of course. I will contact you again in three days, and I expect your answer then.”

            She waved away the image and closed her eyes. Patience. She’d gone through worse than dealing with the likes of Damian Dahrk. She just needed to focus on the goal, and be patient.

0000000

            It wasn’t until Snart and Iris ran after the bird towards Barry that Joe realized they hadn’t even asked where the Woodsman was. He and Rory just headed in the opposite direction, hoping that they would find him before he finished his work and left.

            “Snart isn’t going to let Slade hurt your kids.” Rory said suddenly. Joe turned to give him a confused look, but the wolf was focused on the path in front of him.

            Joe snorted. “Yeah, well, forgive me if I don’t exactly trust a couple of criminals with the wellbeing of my kids.”

            That made Rory slow to a stop. “Look, West,” he growled. “Len hates the Queen and Slade Wilson. Yes, he’s a criminal. Yes, he’s done some things that put him in prison. But he has formed an attachment to Barry, and by extension, Iris and you. He’s not going to let anyone, much less Slade Wilson, hurt them if he can stop it.”

            Joe was shocked by the earnestness in Rory’s voice. He actually seemed to care. Joe couldn’t forget that he and Snart were criminals, nor how much he hated that Barry was becoming so entranced with the two of them (even if he hadn’t really noticed yet). But could… _maybe…_ give them the benefit of doubt when judging their character. _Maybe._

            Before he could reply, the sound of chopping echoed through the trees. Hope swelled in his chest, and he broke into a run towards the sound, vaguely aware of Rory running right behind him.

            They broke into a clearing where a long-haired man stood in front of a cart full of chopped wood. The axe in his hands was a glistening silver, and Joe just knew it was the one they were searching for.

            The man didn’t look up from his work when they entered the clearing.

            “Hello, sir.” Joe greeted in his detective voice. The man raised his head finally, his milky white eyes staring into nothing.

            “You’re a blind woodsman?” Rory asked tactlessly.

            “You ever see a tree move?” The woodsman replied, chopping another piece of wood.

            Joe cleared his throat. “That isn’t the magic axe that can chop through anything, is it?” The woodsman nodded, and Joe was filled with relief. “We need to borrow it. It’s an emergency.”

            The woodsman laughed low and crackly. “I’ll make a deal with you. I will _give you_ my magic axe to do whatever you please, if you can guess my name.” The man split another log. “However, your friend must kneel here,” he motioned to a stump beside him, “and, if you do not guess it by the time I finish chopping all of this wood, I will take his head.”

            Rory furrowed his brow. “Hell, no.”

            Joe would usually agree with him—what was it with the people here? Why couldn’t they just say “that’ll be one hundred coins”? —but he remembered reading fairy tales to Iris when she was a little girl. He _knew_ this one.

            “We accept.”

            Rory glared daggers his way. “Don’t accept for me!”

            “Do you want to help Snart and Barry or not?” Joe growled.

            Rory glanced towards the woodsman suspiciously. “There’s two of us and one of him. I say we just jump him and steal the damn thing.”

            Joe actually found himself considering it, until the man spoke up. “I may be blind, but my hearing is impeccable. If you take the axe by force instead of it being willingly given, it loses its magic and reverts to being an ordinary axe.”

            The two sighed. There went that plan. Rory removed his jacket with a huff. “You better be right about this West.” He snarled, walking over to kneel behind the stump. Joe rubbed his hands together excitedly.

            “Alright, your name is Rumpelstiltskin.”

            The woodsman raised an eyebrow. “No.” He chopped another log and Joe’s smile fell. Rory rumbled angrily.

            They were in trouble.

0000000

            The bird led Len and Iris about a mile through the woods, until it stopped at an enormous oak tree. Then, it flew away without another word. Of course. The best way to hide your hideout in a forest—disguise it as a tree.

            “Barry!” Iris shouted as they both circled the trunk, hoping to find an entrance. “Barry!”

            “Scarlet!”

            “Len? Iris?” They both froze. “I’m up here!”

            There was a hole in the tree about three stories up, and a relieved Barry was looking down from it. “How did you find me?”

            “That’s not important right now.” Len answered. “How do we get inside?”

            Barry moved like he was trying to point, but something kept him from moving. “Umm, there’s a door to my left. But it’s magical—I don’t know how you open it.”

            Len rushed over to where the door should have been, but Mick was better at figuring out magic than he was. It would take him weeks to find a way to open the door. They had to find another way.

            “Barry!” He called up. “How long is your hair right now?”

            Barry withdrew his head from the window to look back. “It’s longer than ever! It’s—” He went quiet, and Len guessed that he figured out what he had in mind. “No.”

            Iris caught on too, a broad grin growing on her lips. “That’s a great idea!”

            “NO!” Barry shouted down from the window, but Len knew they didn’t have a choice.

            “Barry, let down your hair!”

There was a scoff, and pounds of matted hair fell down directly onto his face.

0000000

            “Bill?”

            “No.” Another log was split.

            “Bob? Jeff? Robert? Michael?”

            Another log. “No.”

            “Frank? Sammy? Dean? Joey? Peter? Buddy?”

            “Buddy?!?” Rory roared from his spot behind the stump.

            “Still no.” The woodsman chopped another log. Joe glanced over at the dwindling pile of unchopped logs. There were only three left.

            “Come on, give me a hint.” Joe asked. He may have disliked the wolf, but that didn’t mean he wanted him dead. “How much fun could it be just to chop his head off?”

            The woodsman smirked, chopping another log. “Actually, it’s great fun.” Joe threw head back with a groan. Of course the man would be some sort of sociopath. “However, if you really need a hint: my name is written on the inside of my hat. That way, when I take your friend’s head, you’ll know I’m not lying about what it is.”

            Rory raised an eyebrow and made a motion towards the hat. Joe tried to take a step towards it, but the woodsman stopped, raising his axe threateningly. “Step any closer to the hat, and I’ll take his head now.”

            Joe froze. That was no good. He craned his neck and stood on his toes, hoping that maybe he could catch a glimpse of the name inside the hat. No cigar. The second to last log was chopped.

            Panic was starting to set in. He started thinking about how mad Barry would be if he came back with a headless Mick Rory. Then, a bird fluttered down on the edge of the hat. “Wait, I think I have it.” Joe proclaimed, hoping that it was one of the birds that owed Barry a life debt. The woodsman set the last log up.

            “You have failed to guess my name.” He declared, chopping the final log. “Now, I shall have your friend’s head.”

            Rory’s eyes widened and flashed yellow as the woodsman approached him, axe raised. The bird flew quickly to Joe’s shoulder and whispered. A large grin grew on his face.

            “You better stop right there,” Joe yelled, “Juliet!”

0000000

            Barry screamed as Len clambered up his hair, his roots pulling viciously at his scalp. When two hands grabbed the sill of the window, Barry quickly grabbed them and helped pull Len inside.

            “What about me?” He heard Iris shout from below. Barry groaned; sure, she was lighter than Len, but Barry wasn’t sure if he could deal with someone else climbing up his hair. Luckily, Len had a solution.

            “Iris, grab on to the ends of Barry’s hair, and we’ll pull you up.”

 

            A few much less painful moments later, Barry and Len were dragging his hair back through the window, Iris clinging to the ends. The moment she stepped inside, she threw her arms around Barry’s neck.

            “Oh my god, you have got to stop scaring us like this.”

            “I make no promises.” Barry chuckled. Then, the gravity of their situation hit him. He pulled away. “We need to get out of here. Slade could be back at any time.”

            Len nodded, pulling out his knife and handing it out to Iris. “You go downstairs and watch the door. I’ll get Barry free.” She nodded and ran down the stairs. The second she was gone, Len stepped into Barry’s space.

            He could feel heat radiating off of the criminal, his breath on his face, his striking blue eyes staring at him. A shiver spiked up his spine, and Len chuckled lowly. “Calm down, Scarlet.” He smirked, pulling a thin piece of metal out of his coat. “This will only take a few minutes.”

            He took Barry’s hand in his own and started to pick the lock on his manacles. Barry couldn’t stop himself from almost swooning at the thought that Len was…well, not exactly his white knight, but maybe his Flynn Rider—dashing thief that pretends to only care about himself, but really, there’s a secret, sensitive side to him. The first manacle snapped open, and Len massaged some feeling back into his wrist before starting on the next one.

            He breathed in deep, trying to focus on something other than Len standing so close, peering up at him through his lashes ever so often with a smirk as he expertly picked the lock. He licked his lips nervously. The manacle fell away, and Len massaged the wrist, not even subtly following Barry’s tongue with his eyes.

            Barry swallowed hard. “I think I’m good now.” He breathed. Len’s smirk stayed, but he backed away a step. There was loud clambering up the stairs, and Iris froze on the top step, out of breath, but focused on their proximity.

            “Did I interrupt something?” She asked with a raised eyebrow.

            Barry cleared his throat. “What’s going on?”

            “It’s the Huntsman.”

0000000

            Mick and West headed in the direction Iris and Len had taken off in, magical axe in hand. “Juliet the Woodsman.” West snorted. “No wonder he became a sociopath.”

            Mick let out a laugh, before coming to a halt. His smile fell. “Slade is nearby.”  He sniffed the air. “We’re close to his base—I can smell Len and Iris.”

            West nodded, his hand hovering over the spot on his hip where Mick assumed he kept his weapon while on duty. The two crept forward carefully until they came to an enormous tree at the edge of a grove. Standing on one side was Slade Wilson, his crossbow thrown over his shoulder.

            Mick growled.

            Slade knocked a knot in the trunk, and a door swung inwards. The smell of inside air hit Mick, and he stiffened. Len, Iris, and Barry were still inside. Without considering the consequences, he ran for the door.

            “Rory!” Joe called, running behind him. Slade turned at the detective’s yell and tried to close the door, but Mick was too quick. He leapt through the doorway, pouncing the Huntsman with animalistic ferocity.

            Slade was ready for him, though. The Huntsman’s foot connected with the wolf’s chest, and Mick was thrown backwards onto a wooden table set up in the corner, and one of the sandbags weighing down the traps hanging from the ceiling fell onto his leg, dropping the bear trap attached to it on the other side of the room. Slade drew his sword, ready to gut him, until another shout drew his attention.

            “Mick!” Len jumped from the stairs onto Slade, wrapping his arms around his neck to block his airflow. Barry and Iris came running down next, Barry stopping to check on Mick while Iris grabbed a club from the wall and knocked Slade in the back of the knee with it. He grabbed her arm and threw her back, focusing his attention more on Len.

            Mick could only watch as the Huntsman backed them into a wall and beat Len against it until he let go. Len tumbled to the ground, winded, and Slade glared down at him.

            “This seems familiar.” The Huntsman rumbled. “Except this time, I don’t need you alive, and your wolf friend won’t save you.”

            Len drew his knife, wanting to go out fighting rather than cowering. Outside, he could hear West banging on the door to be let in, but he was more focused on trying to move the sandbag. Slade looked so sure that he was going to kill Len, he didn’t even notice the bigger threat behind him. Barry picked up a knife that had fallen in the struggle and jammed it into Slade’s ankle.

            The Huntsman shouted out, and Len took the opportunity to pull himself up. Before Slade could react, Len pushed him back, both tumbling down to the floor. Slade howled again, and when Len rose up, Mick could see why.

            Not only had Slade fallen on the bear trap, but the tip of Len’s hunting knife dug directly in the eye that he’d missed fourteen years ago. The Huntsman went limp.

            Iris opened the door to let her father in, and West let out a low whistle. “Is he dead?”

            Barry approached cautiously, placing two fingers on Slade’s pulse point. The kid relaxed. “He’s still alive.”

            “I can fix that.” Len snarled, snatching the axe from West’s hands. He raised it to strike Slade down, but Barry suddenly jumped between them.

            “No!” He cried. “You can’t kill him!”

            “He’d kill us!”

            “He’s helpless.” Barry argued, glancing back at the Huntsman like he was some poor, injured animal. Mick scoffed.

            “Doll, he’s gonna come after us for what we just did to him.” He huffed. “And when he finds us, there ain’t gonna be no mercy. He will murder _all_ of us.”

            Barry crossed his arms stubbornly. “I don’t care. I won’t let either of you kill him.”

            Mick watched as Len’s hands tightened around the axe. He could see the pent up rage rolling off of him. But Barry stayed standing between them, his eyes narrowed in a challenge. Then, something happened that Mick hadn’t ever thought Len would do.

            He lowered the axe, giving up his chance to kill Slade Wilson. He didn’t look happy about it, but he did it. “We are all going to regret this.” He warned, turning and storming out of the tree.

0000000

            It took nearly an hour for Iris, Len, and Mick to all dig up Prince Oliver. Joe and Barry had gone off to cut Barry’s hair, which had gotten so long, Iris was sure that he was going to have pains in his neck for the rest of his life. _Still, nothing that Len or Mick wouldn’t massage out for him if he asked_. She thought with a laugh. She really wasn’t completely sure what was going on with them, but it was obvious that there was an attraction. Especially after whatever it was she’d walked into in the Huntsman’s hideout.

            A rustling drew her attention, and Barry came walking into the clearing they were waiting in, his hair back to its normal length, except for the sides.

            “Oh my gosh.” Iris laughed. Both sides of his head were cut all the way down to the scalp, like if someone had taken a razor to his hair.

            “Joe cut it a little short on one side, so he had to fix it.” Barry explained, touching the shaved parts sheepishly. “Does it look that bad?”

            “I think it’s kinda hot, personally.” Mick weighed in, sending him a wink. Barry blushed deep red, adding on to Iris’ theory about attraction.

            “Where’s West now?” Len asked, leaned against a tree with his arms crossed over his chest. It was obvious that he was still peeved with Barry over not letting him kill Slade, but she knew as well as Barry that he’d get over it.

            “He’s burying the axe near where we cut my hair.” Barry explained. “Why couldn’t we keep it, again?”

            “When magic does something for you, it’s bad luck to hoard it.” Mick answered. “Like Malcolm Merlyn’s shoes developed an addictive trait. Imagine that axe developing something like that.”

            Iris shuddered at the thought. Luckily, her father walked up about that time, sparing her from thinking too much on it. They started heading north towards the main road, no longer worried about being hunted. They hadn’t even travelled half an hour when a break in the trees appeared, and parked on the path ahead was a cart.

            “No way.” Barry grinned, running for the cart. Iris ran along with him. There was no way their luck was looking so soon.

            But then, she saw a familiar blonde head. Sara was climbing back on the cart when they broke through the trees. “Sara!”

            The assassin spun quickly, her hand clutching the handle of the sword on her hip, but she relaxed the moment her eyes fell on Iris.

            “Iris, you’re okay!” She threw her arms around Iris, who hugged back happily. She must have seen her father, Barry, Len, and Mick approaching behind her, because she pulled away to wave. “You and your family all got out!”

            “Yeah, we did.” She nodded. Any other time, she’d have made introductions and made conversation, but they didn’t have the time. “Was there a mirror on your cart by chance?”

            Sara frowned. “A mirror?”

            “Yeah, it’s a magic mirror.” Barry answered. “We just need it to get back to where we came from. You can keep it and do whatever you want with it after that.”

            A guilty look appeared on Sara’s face, and Iris’ stomach sunk. “You already sold it, didn’t you?”

            Sara nodded. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that you needed it. I traded it this morning.”

            Iris groaned. While they’d been running and fighting off the Huntsman, the mirror slipped out of their grasp.

            Her father frowned. “What did you trade it for?”

            Sara motioned to the back of her cart, where a little lamb baaed adorably.

0000000

            While the others were getting directions from this ‘Sara Lance’ about where to head next to get their mirror, Mick wandered further up the trail. He felt a gnawing inside of him, a burning under his skin like something was trying to claw its way out. He felt the need to run as far as he could. He felt the need to claim, to attack, to mate, to let out his wolf. He swallowed hard and pushed the feeling down.

            The full moon had arrived.

            “Mick,” A voice called to him. “Mick…”

            He followed it further up the path until he found the source—a puddle. But reflected in that puddle…

            “Mick, do you really believe you can ignore me?” The Queen smirked. “Do you honestly believe that you can protect those you travel with from me, when you won’t even be able to protect them from yourself?”

            “I can control it.” Mick snarled though clenched teeth. “I am not some wild dog. You have no influence on me.”

            “Really?” The Queen laughed. “You don’t feel your blood boiling under the influence of the full moon? What will you do when the wild moon calls you? What will you do to those you love? What will happen to your friends?”

            Mick kicked the puddle, disrupting the reflection and breaking the Queen’s connection. It’d been thirteen years since his last episode during the full moon. He breathed in the air, searching for Len’s smell. _As long as Len was there,_ he told himself, _everything would be okay._

             But then, another smell hit him. This one was closer, strong, not as familiar, but just as delectable.

“Mick?”

He turned to see Barry standing right behind him, a concerned expression on his face. “Mick, are you alright?”

No. No, he wasn’t.

0000000

            They followed Sara’s directions down the path through the forest, which eventually gave way to pastureland. Barry took in a deep breath, eager to be free from the towering trees and constant threat of danger. He was sure that the worst was behind them.

Unfortunately, not everyone seemed to share his optimistic outlook. Mick had been twitchy ever since he found out they were headed for literal greener pastures. He growled to himself at random times, kept shaking and scratching at his head. It was starting to worry Barry.

Sheep frolicking over farmland came into view, and Mick slowed to a stop. Ahead, a sign read “Little Lamb Village- 3 mi”. Barry stopped beside him, frowning at the fearful look on his face.

            “Mick, are you okay?”

            The wolf swallowed hard. “Yeah.” He nodded, eyes not leaving the scene ahead. “I…I’m just not sure about this.”

            Barry raised an eyebrow. “About going to the ‘Little Lamb’ village? Why not?”

            Mick shrugged. “Wolf instincts. Villages like this have nothing but trouble.”

            There was a chuckle behind them. Iris and Joe walked up with Oliver being dragged behind them on his little cart. Iris was grinning ear to ear. “You mean ones with cute lambs and even cuter shepherdesses?” She laughed as they continued on ahead. If anything, the worry on Mick’s face increased.

            “ _Shepherdess make quite a mess_ ,” he sang under his breath, “ _but little lambs are lovely._ ” Without another word, Mick followed after the West’s, leaving an even more confused Barry behind.

“Don’t worry about him.” Barry turned to see Len holding up the rear of the group, motioning for Barry to walk with him as he passed. “Mick always is like this around the full moon.”

“Like werewolves?”

Len shrugged. “Like anything, I guess. You ever notice how everyone starts acting wilder on the full moon? Well, for wolves, it’s a whole lot worse. They’ve been known to lose control of themselves, hunting down and killing anything and everything; on rare occasions, even the people they care about.”

“Mick has a lid on it, though. Right?” Barry asked, fearing the answer.

“You’ve met him, kid. How much control would you say he has on a _normal day?_ ”

Barry couldn’t argue that.

“But, yes. Normally Mick has pretty good control over himself, at least enough to secure himself or get somewhere away from people. But, what that gypsy back in the woods said really spooked him.”

He noticed Len’s fists clenched at his side. He couldn’t blame Len for being upset. That gypsy had said some terrifying things to all of them, but Mick’s prediction had shaken them all to the core. Reaching down, he took Len’s hand in his own and rubbed the tension out. “It’ll be okay.” he assured. “We’ll all just have to keep an eye on him.”

Len seemed to calm down, until they finally caught up with the rest of the group. Mick’s attention was drawn to three young shepherdesses skipping across one of the fields. Barry almost thought he could see a bead of drool dripping from his mouth. He barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“Let’s keep moving, Mick.” He nudged the wolf, but Mick pulled away, his eyes flashing yellow.

“I’ll move when I want to move. Stop being everyone’s mother!”

            Mick’s shout echoed, and the rest of the group stopped to see what was going on. “Hey!” Joe yelled back. “Don’t you talk to my son like that, Rory, or I’ll finish what that woodsman started.”

            Barry had no idea what Joe was talking about, but Mick pushed past him and moved to the front of the group, his hands clenched into fists. Len sighed and held an arm out to stop Barry from running after him.

            “Let him cool off. He’ll be fine.”

            They all continued for the next couple of miles in near silence, until they reached the edge of a small farming village. According to Sara, that’s where they’d find their mirror. Mick was stopped not too far ahead, waiting for them to catch up, his demeanor noticeably calmer and almost, Barry dared to say, chipper.

            When Barry and Len walked past, he fell into step with them. The wolf cleared his throat.

            “Sorry about snapping earlier, Doll.” He said, moving so that he and Barry were walking only inches apart.

            Barry smiled. “It’s alright. Len explained about the moon.”

            He snapped his mouth shut quickly. Maybe he wasn’t supposed to say anything. Mick didn’t seem like the kind of person that liked having his business out in the open. But, instead of getting upset, Mick smiled back.

            “Of course he did.” He moved so he stood between Barry and Len. He sloppily kissed the latter on the cheek, much to Len’s dismay. Barry barely resisted the urge to laugh.

            A swell of giggling drew their attention to the pasture beside the road, and the three shepherdesses from before skipped up to the fence. The one in the center—blonde, kind of reminded Barry of the stepsister from _Ella Enchanted_ —smiled obnoxiously at them.

            “Mornin’. Haven’t seen any of you around here before.” Her eyes darted from Barry, to Len, and finally landed on Mick. Her smile grew, and she leaned forward slightly, showing off the cleavage peeking out from the neckline of her dress. “My name’s Sally Bo Peep. I’m a shepherdess.”

            Mick stepped towards the fence. “You most certainly are.”

            Len grabbed Mick by the arm before he could move closer to the girl, a murderous expression on his face. “That’s nice.” He replied, his tone flat and conveying the exact opposite. “We all need to catch up with our companions, if you don’t mind.”

            He pulled the wolf up the path, and Barry followed, raising an eyebrow at Len’s reaction. He’d always assumed that his and Mick’s relationship was open, if the way they both flirted with him said anything. But all Sally had done was bat her eyes and use drunken bridesmaid style flirting, and Len was ready to drag her dead body into the woods.

            When they entered the village, Joe was waiting with Oliver beside an old well at the edge of the town square. A homeless-looking man was hovering annoyingly around him. The second his eyes fell on them, it was like Christmas had come early.

            “Where the hell have you three been?” He demanded, not even bothering to excuse himself as he hurried over to him. “I’ve been sitting there for ten minutes listening to the self-proclaimed village idiot over there—I’m not being mean; he actually does call himself that—talk about some damn magic wishing well.”

            This time, Barry did laugh. “I’m sorry, Joe. We were…caught up talking to the locals.” He heard Len huff, but ignored him. “What’s our next move? And where’s Iris?”

            Joe motioned across the small town square, where Iris was speaking with another woman, who was nodding along with what she said. “She’s been asking people about where we can stay and who could’ve bought the mirror.”

            As if summoned by his words, Iris smiled and nodded to the lady before returning back to the well. “The inn is full because of their Spring Festival that starts tomorrow.” She explained. “However, Fidelity over there—” she motioned back to the woman, who waved back, “has offered to let us stay in her barn.”

            “What about the mirror?” Joe asked.

            “Fidelity says that the village judge bought almost everything off of Sara’s cart to use as prizes in the competition. The best place to catch him is at the Baa-Bar—some restaurant around the corner—tonight at dinner.”

            Barry nodded, sparing a glance over at Mick. He frowned. The wolf wasn’t looking too good. He’d seemed fine back when they’d been chatting with Sally Bo Peep, but now, suddenly, he looked like he was going to tip over any minute.

            Len seemed to notice as well, wrapping an arm around Mick’s waist when he started to wobble. “We should probably get to that barn.”

0000000

            Fidelity reminded Barry of Mrs. Claus a bit. She was plump, with rosy cheeks, a warm smile, and an honest, no nonsense demeanor. The sky was getting darker by the time they reached the barn, and Fidelity motioned them inside.

            “It’s not much, but it’ll keep you sheltered and warm.” She hummed, smiling brightly. Len led Mick inside first, and Joe shook the woman’s hand.

            “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

            She perkily left the barn, and Barry turned back to Len, who was holding Mick up by one arm. The wolf didn’t look well—he was pale and sweating, his breathing was hard and harsh, and he was shivering.

            “Is he going to be okay?”

            Without answering, Len lowered Mick against a pile of hay and wiped some sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of his coat. Barry moved to crouch beside them, resting his hand on the wolf’s arm. Mick swatted it away angrily.

“Stop fussing over me!” He howled, his eyes flashing yellow. Len pulled Barry back quickly. “Both of you, mothering and smothering over me like dwarf housewives! I don’t _need_ you. Go the fuck away!”

Joe clenched his fists, but Iris stepped in before he could start a fight with the wolf. “Look, why don’t we leave Mick to rest and feel better, while the rest of us go by the Baa-Bar and—”

A scream cut off her suggestion.

“WOLF! WOLF!” They all shared a look before running out of the barn. The townspeople were dancing around in the streets joyfully, the shepherdesses laughing and twirling their skirts. A man wearing a mascot-like wolf head was skipping through the streets with them, knocking on random doors. Barry relaxed. It was just some kind of festival thing.

Instead of going back inside the barn, they decided to take Iris’ advice and leave Mick to rest while they ventured to get the mirror back.

0000000

            The Peeps seemed to own almost everything in town—the inn, the restaurant, the largest farm. While Iris wandered off to ask around about the mirror, Barry, Len, and Joe all sat in the corner of said restaurant, devouring everything that was laid in front of them. It suddenly made sense why they basically ran everything—it was like everything they touched was gold.

            Barry glanced down beside Joe at Oliver, feeling a swell of guilt at that thought. “Why did you bring Oliver with us? If he’s still awake, he hasn’t eaten in days. That’s just cruel.”

            Joe looked up from his third plate of vegetables pointedly. “He’s made of gold—what’s to stop someone from stealing him?”

            Barry raised a disbelieving eyebrow, but returned to his food.

            “I cannot believe Prince Oliver’s inaction!” He overheard the man sitting a table over say. The man sitting across from him nodded.

            “Damian Dahrk has been ravaging the kingdom, enslaving our people, and our future king decides to hide and let his sister handle his affairs. It’s disgraceful.”

            Damian Dahrk? Barry hadn’t heard of him, but from what they were saying, he was dangerous. Was this part of the Queen’s plan? Make Oliver seem so inept that no one wants him to be their king?

Iris’ excited approach to the table jarred him from his musings. “I have good news and bad news.” She dropped into the seat beside her father and stole a green bean off of his plate. “Oh my god, this is like crack.” She practically moaned, taking another bite.

            “Iris!”

            She cleared her throat. “Right. Well, I found out what the mirror is being used for. It’s going to be used as a prize, along with 200 Gold Queen coins and a trophy, for something called the ‘Lovely Shepherdess Competition’ they’re having during their Spring Festival. The bad news is that I tried to explain to the judge that the mirror was ours, but he refused to give it up.”  She took a plate from the center of the table and started filling it with food.

            Barry was about to ask what their new game plan was, when a commotion drew his attention to the door. Mick practically swept into the restaurant, a gleeful grin on his face—the complete opposite of how they’d left him. He pulled out the chair beside Barry and plopped down, grabbing a plate of his own and piling it with food. Across from them, Len frowned.

            “I thought you weren’t feeling well.” He drawled, clearly worried about the wolf.

            Mick shrugged. “Feel better. This is delicious.” He shoveled a second large forkful of food into his mouth.

            Barry and Len shared a look. Mick was acting strange, and it was worrying both of them. Barry cleared his throat. “Are you sure you’re feeling better? I mean, you seemed really bad off earlier.”

            A lewd smirk appeared on the wolf’s face as he leaned back in his chair. Barry shivered when he gave him a once over. “You worried about me, Doll?”

            “Rory, I swear to God,” Joe threatened, deciding to jump into their conversation. “If you don’t stop looking at my son like that…”

            Barry tensed, expecting Mick’s anger to flare. Instead, the wolf threw back his head and laughed.

            “Hello, again.”

            In his distraction by Mick, Barry hadn’t even realized that Sally Bo Peep and her little clique had come in. Now, she was standing at their table, eyeing Mick like he was a piece of meat. It made Barry’s skin crawl. From the deadly expression on Len’s face, he agreed.

            Sally, however, only had eyes for Mick. “I don’t remember getting your name before.” She grinned, twisting her hair between her fingers.

            Len opened his mouth, probably to say something very rude to her, which Barry would silently agree with, but Mick spoke up first. “Mick.” He smirked, nodding at the buxom shepherdess.

            The other girls laughed, and Sally’s grin grew as she sidled closer to Mick until she was practically leaning on him. “Well, _Mick_ , today’s my eighteenth birthday. Do you know what’s going to happen to me tonight?”

            Down the table, Iris choked on a bit of potato, and Barry’s eyes widened. If either of them had been _that_ forward at eighteen, or even at twenty-six, Joe would’ve locked them in the panic room until they were eighty. Len was white-knuckling his steak knife, probably considering the most painful place to stab the shepherdess, but Mick raised an eyebrow.

            “I have an idea—” But then, a group of men were rushing their table, dragging Mick from his chair, and throwing him against a nearby wall. Mick lunged, like he was going to fight back, but one of the men had a pitchfork that they aimed at his face. The restaurant went silent, but no one interfered.

            “No outsiders mess with Peep girls!” The leader of the little group roared, pushing into Mick’s space. Mick, not one to be intimidated, pushed back.

            “Maybe you should tell them that. Or better yet, let them fucking decide for themselves.”

            True as the statement was, the farmer’s face turned an angry red, and Barry knew this was just going to escalate. Len moved to break it up, but Barry knew that, if the criminal were to intervene, there would most likely be a fight in the middle of the restaurant, and they wouldn’t be able to get the mirror if they were run out of town. So, with a pointed look at Len, he rushed to Mick’s side.

            “Whoa, whoa,” He smiled reassuringly, edging his way between the wolf and the farmer. “There’s absolutely no need for that.” 

            The young farmer scowled. “He was messing with the Peep girls. No outsiders mess with Peep girls.”

            So he gathered. Barry sighed inwardly and spared a glance back at Mick, who seemed ready to rip all the farmers to pieces. Not good. “I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it.” He responded. “Actually, he’s not feeling well today. How about we just forget this whole thing happened, I take him back to the barn to rest this off, and tonight doesn’t get ruined for anyone?”

 Barry flashed his most innocent, persuasive smile—the one that got him out of detention in high school and got people to cover for him when he was late for work. If it didn’t work, there was nothing else he could do. The farmers shared a silent conversation before the main one released Mick’s collar and backed away.

“Fine. But I don’t want to see him back in here tonight.”

Neither did Barry. “Of course not.” He agreed, taking Mick by the hand and pulling him towards the exit. On their way out, he stopped by their table to let Joe, Iris, and Len know what was happening.

“Be careful, Barry.” The warning, shockingly, came from Len. The criminal was eyeing his partner warily, like Mick was a bomb he wasn’t sure was going to blow. Barry just nodded and led the wolf out.

0000000

Barry didn’t understand the bought of jealousy he’d felt when he saw Sally Bo Peep and the other shepherdesses throwing themselves at Mick. Len’s near-murderous reaction had been understandable, but he didn’t really understand his own fury. 

But now, watching Mick practically skip—yes, _Mick Rory practically skipping_ —through the fields on their way back to the barn, he knew he was feeling something towards the wolf. Something warm, and protective, and affectionate. Maybe that’s what the feeling was: not jealousy, but anger. The fact that those girls threw themselves at him with no regards to him or what those men would do to him. He deserved better than that.

“I haven’t felt this alive in ages!” The wolf exclaimed, running full out ahead of Barry.

He skidded to a stop when he caught a clear look at the full moon over the trees, entranced by the glowing orb. “My mom loved the moon.” He whispered once Barry caught up, his mood sobered. “Doesn’t it make you want to howl?”

Barry laughed a little, until he noticed how serious the wolf was. “Not particularly.” He replied, following the wolf’s gaze. “But I can see the appeal.”

“She would drag us out every full moon to look at it.” He continued as though Barry hadn’t said anything. There was something different about the way he was talking. It was starting to make Barry uneasy. “She was completely obsessed. I guess I got that from her. The moon used to make her hungry for everything…” Fingers were brushing against Barry’s, and when he turned away from the moon, Mick was staring at him instead. “The hunger…”

Their eyes locked. Barry could see the heat, the maniacal gleam in his eyes, but it didn’t scare him anymore. Instead, it sent shivers up his spine.

“Mick…” He swallowed hard and took a step back. “You really need to go to bed and rest this off.”

The wolf practically leered as Barry led him, hand-in-hand, back to the barn.

0000000

Len left not long after Barry escorted Mick back to the barn. Iris and her dad lagged behind, deciding to get one more helping of the Peep vegetables before heading back. Sally Bo Peep flirted around the restaurant a few more times, celebrating her birthday the only way she apparently knew how to, which made Iris want to gag. She reminded Iris of those girls back in high school that thought that were better than everyone else and wanted to prove it by flirting with every guy and trying to steal other girl’s boyfriends to cause drama.

Guess there were some things that bridged dimensional gaps.

An old man entered, after about ten minutes, and all the Peeps grew very quiet. He whispered to one of the older Peeps, who nodded and headed over to Sally. Whatever the woman whispered in the shepherdess’ ear, it got her really excited. She and almost every Peep in the restaurant, save some of the younger ones that were taking care of cleaning and closing up, followed the old man out.

It was odd, the secretiveness of what they were doing, and one look at her father told her that he was thinking the same. They laid down some money to play their bill and slipped out behind the Peeps, following them at enough of a distance to avoid being spotted.

The Peeps slunk along the edges of fields until they came to a large barn at the edge of Peep land. They all hurried inside, and Joe and Iris snuck around the back, finding a break in the wood where they could spy.

All the Peeps stood in a semi-circle around Sally Bo Peep, who was looking at the old man, sitting in a throne-like chair in front of her.

“Sally,” He croaked, a toothy grin on his face, “why do you think that everything the Peeps grow is so perfect?”

The blonde smiled uncomfortably and shrugged. “I don’t rightly know. I mean, it used to be that there was a magic well, but that dried up almost fifty years ago.”

The man’s grin grew. “Did it, now?”

He nodded to two Peeps standing beside him. The two men swept the hay in the center of their circle away to reveal a trapdoor. “You see, all those years ago, my brother and I diverted the stream. So now, the Peeps have all the magic.”

The two Peeps threw open the trapdoor, and sparkles of magic floated into the air. Iris put a hand over her mouth to smother her gasp. Inside, Sally’s jaw dropped.

            Another Peep came forward with an old, ugly sheep with matted wool. The old man laughed. “This won’t win you Lovely Shepherdess, will it?” The Peep took a hook that hung from the ceiling and wrapped the chain around the sheep, securing it. Then, the two Peeps that opened the well lowered the sheep directly into the trapdoor.

            WHAT DO YOU WISH FROM MY MAGIC WATERS?

            “Magic well,” The old man called down. “Please fill this sheep with your goodness and light.”

            The sparkles rose more rapidly, and then the men pulled the sheep out.

            It was beautiful—it’s wool was sparkling gold, it was young and adorable, and it would definitely win Sally that competition. Iris turned to check her father’s reaction, but he was looking back at her like he had an idea that she wasn’t going to like.

0000000

The walk back didn’t take as long as Barry had anticipated, probably due to the skip that Mick had in his step. He pulled Barry along, leering back at him every few minutes with a smile like he knew something Barry didn’t. It didn’t settle his unease. When they finally reached the barn, Barry was ready to collapse in a pile of hay and pass out. Entering the barn though, it was clear Mick had other plans. Before Barry knew what was happening, he was pushed against the door, Mick’s face buried in his neck.

“Doll,” The wolf breathed into his skin. “You don’t know what you do to me. What you’ve been doing to me since I first caught your scent in that park. I always thought I’d never smell anything as good as Lenny, but…”

He inhaled deeply and let out a euphoric sigh. “You’re amazing.” When he started to nip and kiss at his neck, Barry knew he needed to put an end to this. He didn’t know what he was feeling for Mick, but he did know that Mick was out of his right mind with whatever was happening to him right now. He wasn’t going to take advantage of that.

“Mick, no.” He pushed at the wolf’s shoulder. “Mick, I know you can’t control yourself right now—”

Mick growled, pulling away from Barry’s neck to glare heatedly at him, their faces inches apart. “You think so?” Barry tried to push him back again, but Mick quickly grabbed both of his wrists in one hand and pinned them over his head. “You think because Lenny told you about my little condition that you know something, that you can help me?” He pressed his body hard against Barry’s, practically grinding his half hard cock on his thigh.

“This may come as a shock to you, but sometimes there’s nothing to save. Sometimes people _are_ what they _are_. Besides,” He grinded a little harder, pushing his own thigh between Barry’s. A tiny moan accidentally escaped Barry’s lips, and Mick smirked. “It seems to me that you enjoy the animal just fine.”

“Mick…”

“Just look at you—little goody-two shoes, always wanting to do the right thing. Helping the prince, saving the talking birds, sparing the fucking Huntsman…”

“Mick, stop…”

“You’re living for everyone but yourself! It’s driving me fucking crazy!”

“STOP IT!” Barry roared. It surprised Mick enough for Barry to pull his arms free from his grasp and push him away. “Stop bullying me! Just stop it!”

The shock disappeared quickly, and the leer that had been on the wolf’s face transformed into something else—something predatory. Something inhuman. Barry hadn’t been afraid of Mick Rory since they’d started travelling together, but now…

He felt like cornered prey.

“What if I don’t?” The words rumbled out, slow and slick. Barry’s heart was beating so loud, he was sure that the whole village could hear it. “What if I don’t stop, huh? What are you going to do?”

Barry glanced around, trying to find something he could use to his advantage. Against one of the barn’s supports, about a yard behind Mick, he spotted a pitchfork. He tried edging away, but a hand slammed against the wood beside his head, blocking his path. “Are you going to scream, Barry? That’s what people do, you know. When they see a wolf.” He slammed his other hand to cage Barry against the wall. “They scream and they scream…”

Taking a chance, Barry thought back to those self-defense classes Joe had made him and Iris take as kids and kneed him straight in the jewels. The wolf doubled over for about half a second, enough time for Barry to break free and run for the pitchfork. 

Taking the tool in hand, Barry brandished the pitchfork like a spear, pointing it at Mick when he stepped too close. The wolf’s expression darkened.

“Now you’re going to stick me? Stab me? _You?_ ” He ripped the tool from Barry’s hands before he could do anything and broke it in half, tossing the pieces to the side with a huff.

“You thought you were gonna bring me down with that?” He tried getting in Barry’s space again, but Barry side-stepped him every time he came too close. “Even the farmers that murdered my family knew better than that—you don’t stick a wolf, you burn it.”

The horror of Mick’s words hit Barry hard. Hard enough that he lost his footing and fell to the floor. The next thing he knew, Mick was on him again, this time straddling his waist while pinning his arms beside his head. “Yeah, ‘good people’, like those farmers out there. They aren’t so good when they’re corralling you into a barn and setting it on fire.”

“Mick…stop…” He tried to break free again, but this time, Mick wasn’t going to fall for his surprises.

“So, what about you, Barry? What’s it gonna be for you?”

Barry didn’t know what he was asking—he wasn’t sure if Mick even knew what he was asking—but a shout from the doorway of the barn was enough to keep him from answering. Suddenly, Mick was being thrown off of Barry, and Len was crouched over him.

“Are you okay?” He asked, running a hand along Barry’s torso and arms to check for any injuries.  “Barry, are you okay?” Too shaken up to answer, Barry just nodded.

He heard Mick snort across the barn. “We were only messing around.”

“Just be glad it was me that walked in instead of West.” Len growled, helping Barry to his feet. “If he’d seen that, he may have killed you without a thought.”

“He could’ve tried.” Mick snarled, giving the two a poisonous glare before storming out the barn door. Not a half second later, Joe and Iris came running into the barn.

“What’s up with Mick?” Iris asked with a frown.

Len shook his head instead of answering. Joe must have noticed something odd with Barry, because his posture grew defensive. “What did he do?”

Panic fluttered in Barry’s stomach. Mick hadn’t really _done_ anything except scare him, but what would’ve happened if Len hadn’t shown up when he did? Would he have hurt him? Forced himself onto him? _Killed him?_ He swallowed hard, shaking those thoughts from his head.

“Nothing. The moon is just making him cranky.” He reassured, moving to lean against the barn support. “Were you going to tell us something?”

Joe’s whole face said that he wanted to press the matter, but instead, the detective crossed his arms over his chest and sighed. “Iris and I followed the Peeps out of the restaurant.”

Barry’s eyes widened in shock, while Len barked out a laugh. “We’ll make you a criminal yet, West.”

Joe shot a glare his way before continuing. “Remember idiot in the town square talking about the well? How it’s been dried up for years? Well, there’s a barn about half a mile up the road. The Peeps diverted the Wishing Well water right up underneath it, and have been using its magic to be better than everyone else for _decades._ ”

“You’re kidding!” Barry gasped. “That’s genius!”

Len snorted. “No, that’s vain. If they were really smart, they’d sell the water to the villagers for outrageous sums instead of using it to make themselves look good. And anyway, how is knowing the Peep’s ace in the hole supposed to help us get the mirror?”

The Wests shared a conspiratorial look. “We’re going to use it to win the shepherdess competition tomorrow.” Iris grinned. “And you’re going to help us.”

0000000

It itched. Itch, itch itch…it was burning him alive!

Mick stopped at the edge of one of the fields, running a hand over his shaved head. He attacked Barry— _he attacked him._ Who knows what would’ve happened if Len hadn’t walked in when he did?

He didn’t understand what was causing him to lose control. Sure, he was wild on a good day, but if there was one thing his mother had drilled into his head as a pup, it was never to lose control. That’s when someone gets hurt and wolves get burnt.

That person was almost Barry. Mick didn’t know what he had been planning on doing to the kid, other than taking him. His smell was _so_ enticing…

“Hello, Mick.”

His eyes fell on the full moon above him, and it smiled back. The Queen. Now, it made sense.

“You evil bitch!” He screamed at the sky. “You fucking stay away from me!”

“Oh, but you know I can’t do that. Remember, you work for me. You gave me your will.”

He shook his head. He hadn’t meant to—he hadn’t known who she was…

 “No…”

“Yes.” She replied, her reflection now appearing in the horse trough beside him. “My mirrors will not show me who you and Mr. Snart travel with. Who are they?”

He kept shaking his head. She wanted Barry…she wanted to destroy him like she almost did Lenny…she was in his head…

“No!” He roared. “I won’t tell you a damn thing about him!”

He realized his mistake too late. The Queen smiled a dark smile. “Him? Have you developed feelings for him, Mick?” She mocked. “Have you and Mr. Snart found a new play thing? How does he smell? Tasty?”

Blood was dripping from where Mick’s claws were digging into his palms. His thoughts returned to Barry—sweet, innocent Barry. He pictured him alone with him in the barn, like before, pinned to the floor, writhing instead of fighting back. He saw Barry begging for him, begging to be taken, his head thrown back to show his long, pale neck…

Then, he pictured his teeth extending, lunging forward to rip into that neck…

NO.

NO.

He fell to his knees, fighting his urges. He was more than an animal. He was more…

“Look to the moon.” The Queen commanded, and he couldn’t resist its call. “You serve me, Mick. Release your Wolf.”

He was more than an animal. He was…more…

He was an animal.

0000000

Barry tossed and turned most of the night thinking about Mick. He hadn’t returned to the barn since Len had saved Barry, and it was starting to worry him. Soon, though, the exhaustion of their journey lulled him to into a dreamless sleep.

All too soon, it felt, he was jarred awake by the feeling of something breathing in his face. He opened his eyes to what was possibly the ugliest sheep he’d ever seen staring back at him.

“OH MY GOD!” He screamed, crawling back from the animal. There was a chuckle from behind it, and he craned his neck to see Len cutting bits of wool off its back.

“I didn’t take you for such a heavy sleeper, Scarlet.” He smirked. “Joe and Iris already left—something about finding an outfit for her to wear to the competition.”

Barry sat up with a frown, sleep still jumbling his head. “Where’d you get the sheep?”

“Stole it.” The criminal shrugged. “The hard part was catching it—took me nearly three hours this morning—and now I’m just cutting the Peep’s identifying mark off of it.”

“Did…did Mick come back at all last night?”

Len paused, a somber expression falling on his face. “Not as far as I know.”

“Is that normal?”

His lips stretched into a thin line, like the answer was weighing heavy on him. “No. Usually Mick has a better grasp on it than he did last night. I’m worried something might be affecting him.”

Finishing his work, Len rose to his feet with a sigh. “Well, I think this sheep is as good as he’s gonna get. I’ll go get Joe and we’ll take this ugly lump of wool to the well, see if it really can work miracles and make it attractive.”

Barry laughed quietly as Len pulled the sheep out the door, clearly annoyed by the horrible creature. Once he was alone, he stood up and stretched. He really needed a good shower—he couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually been clean. Knowing he wouldn’t get that, however, he settled for the trough of water Joe had filled for them to wash off with. He pulled his shirt over his head and rubbed some water over his torso, getting some of the forest smell and now sheep smell off his skin. He dipped his head in after that to clean his hair, relishing in the cold water on his face.

When he finished, he reached for one of the sheets hanging from the clothesline running through the barn to dry off with. When he pulled it free, he nearly screamed.

Mick was standing behind it, sweating and shaking like a drug addict. His hands and face were covered in scratches and cuts, his fingers tented red by what looked like blood, and his eyes were tired and frantic at the same time.

“Doll…Barry…I…” He swallowed, eyes darting around the barn like he thought someone else was going to appear. “I don’t know what I did last night after I left. I…I don’t really remember.” He ran his hands down his face with a shiver. “I need you to do something for me. Please.”

Barry found himself nodding through his shock, and Mick held out a coil of rope. “I need you to tie me up. I don’t want to hurt you, Barry. I remember attacking you and…please. Tie me up.”

“Are you sure?” Barry asked, grabbing the rope and taking Mick by the hand to lead to the support beam in the center of the barn.

“Do you want me to get out like this?!” Mick growled, throwing himself against the beam. Barry bit his lip nervously as he wrapped his arms around Mick like a hug to pull the rope around. The leering expression had returned to Mick’s face, and Barry wondered if this is what Len meant about something affecting him. Was it Barry? Mick had mentioned his scent and how nice it was over and over again; did that mean that his smell was causing Mick to turn feral? Mick growled each time Barry had to lean against his body to wrap the rope, his animalistic grin widening.

“Tighter.” He egged Barry on. “Tighter, or I’ll break free. Then, I’ll eat you up.”

Barry forced himself to calm his breaths as he finished his rope-work with one final knot. When he was done, he stepped back to examine his handiwork. It wasn’t the best knot he’d ever tied, but it was good enough to hold through whatever thrashing and fighting Mick would give.

Backing away, he gave Mick one last reassuring smile. “You’ll be fine. I’ll be back after the competition to give you some water and some food.” Before the wolf could answer, he was pulling on his shirt and rushing out the door, trying not to think about how he’d just tied up one of his friends in a barn.

0000000

To say that Iris was nervous would be an understatement. When she was four, before her mother died, it was decided that she would do a beauty pageant. It was a disaster—she tripped doing her talent four times, she cried before her beauty round and made her mascara run, and by the end, everyone was grateful it was over.

The shepherdess competition felt like that. She ran her hands down the blue dress her dad made for her—thank god he used to make all of Iris and Barry’s Halloween costumes—out of some curtains and sheets Fidelity had lying around. It sort of reminded her of Dorothy Gale’s dress, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.

Her hand tightened around the crook Len had given her—where he’d gotten it from, she really didn’t want to know—and strode towards the town square as confidently as she could, Barry right behind her. The crowd that was gathered to watch parted as she approached, and she flashed her most slaying smirk at them.

The sign-up sheet was displayed on a small table across from the makeshift stage, with two names written on it: Mary Ramley and Sally Bo Peep. Iris picked up the quill beside it.

“Don’t you dare.” She heard hissed from the Peep side of the crowd. She grinned to herself as she signed her name. When she turned to walk away, Barry held up a hand, which she high-fived enthusiastically.

The judge, who sat in a box behind the sign-up table, cleared his throat, and the square went quiet. “Due to the chicken massacre this morning, we are moving up the Lovely Shepherdess competition.”

Iris noticed Barry tensing at the mention of the chicken massacre, but decided not to question it. After all, she had more important things to focus on. She glanced around, searching for some sign of her father or Len with her sheep.

“Miss West.” The judge called down to her. “Where is your sheep?”

“She hasn’t got one.” She could hear Sally singing behind her. She scowled.

“I have one. I just… I left him in the barn on accident.” It was a good cover, until—

“Well, go and fetch him! Or I’ll have to disqualify you.”

She nodded and turned to hurry back to the barn, only to stop when she spotted her father and Len running towards her. In Len’s arms was a lamb with _pink_ wool. Her jaw dropped as the criminal sat it at her feet. The crowd ‘ooh’ed and ‘ahh’ed over it, and Sally looked ready to pop a gasket. The judge, however, just nodded.

“On with the competition then!” He announced. “To start, as tradition dictates, contestants must go to the stage and perform their favorite sheep song.”

Iris froze. She only knew two sheep songs, and there were two people ahead of her. The odds were not in her favor. Sure enough, when Mary took the stage, she started _‘Baa-Baa Black Sheep’._

She grabbed Barry’s arm. “What sheep songs do you know?”

His eyes widened. “Uhhhh…I’d say _‘Little Bo Peep’_ , but…”

“Sally’s probably going to do that one.” Iris finished his thought. “How are we going to win this? We know nothing about these people.”

Barry frowned. “Maybe that’s a good thing. They don’t know about us either. Our sheep songs could be different than theirs.”

“What are you getting at?”

“Pick a song and just put sheep words to it. None of these people will be able to tell.” With that, Mary finished, and Sally took the stage, predictably doing _‘Little Bo Peep’_.

Iris took a deep breath.

0000000

            Mick’s blood was _boiling_. There was sweat falling into his eyes, the ropes were digging into his skin, and he could feel the _Call._ He was itching to be free as he thrashed against his bonds.

            He couldn’t fight it…the pull was too strong…stronger than it’d ever been. Something was enhancing it, someone…

            “Hello, again.” He darted his eyes over to the nearby trough, only to see another face reflected back at him. He sneered down at the Queen. “You seem to be in quite a spot.”

            “Go…the hell…away…” He panted through gritted teeth, trying to focus on anything but her piercing eyes glaring back. “I don’t…want anything…to do with you!”

            The Queen pursed her lips in a fake pout. “Oh, Mick. But you swore your loyalty to me. Don’t you remember?”

            Mick squeezed his eyes close and shook his head. “No. No…I didn’t know who…”

            “Doesn’t matter. You work for _me_.”

            “No…”

            The Queen’s voice was growing annoyed. “My patience is wearing thin. Get the dog, kill the boy and his companions, and bring the dog to me.”

            Mick roared in an attempt to cover the sound of her voice, but the Wolf was pushing through. It was an itch under his skin, blistering and irritating. He wanted to scratch at it, to dig at his skin until it bled, but the ropes were holding him back.

            _BREAK FREE_

            He struggled and fought.

            _BREAK FREE AND RELEASE THE WOLF_

The ropes finally snapped. He felt his teeth elongate, and he knew that his eyes were shining yellow. The Wolf growled. It was time to hunt.

0000000

            “And now, contestant number three: Iris West!”

            Iris threw a worried look back at Barry, who gave her an encouraging thumbs-up. She tried to send him a reassuring smile back, but it came out as a sort of grimace. She climbed slowly to the stage, fighting to remember any song she could. Then, she remembered 7th grade, when she and Barry signed up for the talent show and did an airband for one of their favorite songs.

            Thank god for small miracles—she still remembered the words.

            She stomped twice, then clapped. Stomp, stomp, clap. Stomp, stomp, clap. She watched the realization cross Barry’s face.

            _“Buddy you're a lamb,”_ she sang, _“make a big…bleat/ Playing in the field/ Gonna be a big”_ she thought about it, _“ram some day!_

 _“You got wool on your face/ You big disgrace/ Waving your…”_ Sheep words, sheep words, ugh… _“_ Fleece _all over the place/ Singing we will, we will shear you!”_

She stopped.

Everyone in the audience was staring slack-jawed. Barry looked like he was fighting not to burst out laughing, her father giving her a glare that asked if she’d lost her mind, and Len was just confused. Then, she figured ‘what the hell?’.

“SING IT!” She exclaimed. Barry seemed to catch the drift, because the next thing she knew, he was stomping out the beat to _‘We will rock you’_ , and getting other people to join in. Before long, the whole festival was getting involved, and Iris just kept it going.

_“Buddy you're a young ewe/ Look at you playing in the field_

_Gonna be a big ram someday/ You got wool on your face_

_You big disgrace._

_Waving your fleece all over the place_

_Singing we will, we will shear you!_

_We will, we will shear you!”_

 

By the time Iris’ sheep song was finished, everyone was cheering for her. She actually considered doing a stage dive, but decided against it when she remembered that the people probably wouldn’t know what it was or what to do. So, instead, she curtsied and stepped down from the stage, a bright smile on her face. The daggers Sally Bo Peep was shooting at her just made it brighter.

After the song, it was time for judging. Iris swallowed hard as she, Sally, and Mary all lined up before the judge.

“Now, we have three very fine, very lovely shepherdesses here. Each has a beautiful sheep.” He walked down the line, first stopping at Mary. “I have to give Mary an eight out of ten.” Mary’s smile fell, and whispers of ‘better luck next year’ came from the crowd.

The judge stopped at Sally next. “Peeps, you sure know how to raise them. I have to give Sally a ten out of ten!” The blonde shouted with joy, along with the rest of the Peep clan, but the judge held up a hand to silence them. “But I’m afraid that our new contestant, Miss Iris West, also deserves a ten out of ten!”

Iris’ heart nearly stopped as Joe and Barry both exploded in cheers. To say the Peeps were outraged would be an understatement.

“No, I win!” Sally screamed. “Peeps _always_ win! There can’t be a tie!”

“Well, you can take the trophy, and I could take the mirror?” Iris suggested, but the shepherdess rounded on her.

“I want them both!” She growled hatefully.

A sharp ringing cut through the shouts, and the judge stood on his platform once again. “Now, there will be a tiebreaker. We will set up an obstacle course, and whoever gets their sheep through it, using only commands and use of their sheepdog in the shortest amount of time, will be crowned the winner.”

Iris’ enthusiasm dropped. “Umm, I don’t have a sheepdog, sir.”

Sally laughed. “Then, I guess you’ll lose.”

0000000

            Barry could tell Joe was upset. He was upset, too. Iris should’ve won fair and square, if not for her sheep, then definitely for her song.

            No appreciated the genius of Queen anymore.

            “Damn.” Joe cursed. “How are we supposed to get a sheepdog?”

            Barry popped down to the sidewalk and sighed, resting his forehead on the cold metal of Oliver’s body. Where could they get a dog in so little time? He heard someone plop down beside him, and a hand touched his knee.

“Problems, Scarlet?”

He raised his head to glare at Len. “You heard the judge. We need a sheepdog. How are we supposed to get one in so little time?”

A smile appeared on Len’s lips, and, suddenly, the criminal was laughing. _Laughing!_

“What’s the joke?”

Len shook his head. “I hate to break it to you, Scarlet, but we have a dog.” His eyes shifted to the gold statue beside him, and Barry felt very stupid.

He jumped to his feet, grabbing Len’s hand to drag him up with him. “Joe, we’ll be right back!” He promised, taking the cart by the rope and dragging it as quickly as he could towards the Peep farm, Len laughing at him as he followed.

They snuck inside, and Len swept the hay away from a trapdoor in the center of the floor. Barry watched as he grabbed a hook that was dangling from the ceiling and wrapped it around Oliver’s body, before throwing open the trapdoor.

“Water in this hole in the floor,” Len stated, motioning for Barry to help him lower Oliver into the water below. “We need you to turn this statue back to himself.”

 _OH NO. NOT YOU AGAIN._ A voice called out from the water.

Barry laughed. “Please?” He asked. “It’s kind of an emergency, and we’d be very grateful.”

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, sparkles of magic floated up from the water. 

0000000

Iris was getting worried. She had to admit—Sally Bo Peep was a good shepherdess. Her dog urged her sheep on through the short obstacle course efficiently, while she shouted commands. The sheep ran for its life through the course, eventually making its way to Sally, who closed the pen behind it.

“Pen’s closed!”

The Peeps erupted into cheers as the judge called out, “Eighty-five!”

Iris swallowed hard. She was going to lose. They were never going to get home because she had no idea what the hell she was doing. Her sheep sat at the end of the obstacle course, stupidly.

            “Come on, lamb!” She called to it, whistling like she would a dog. “Here lamb! Come here, you beautiful ball of wool.”

            Nothing. It didn’t even look at her.

            “Count is up to thirty!” The judge announced. Iris was consider just beating it with her crook all the way to the finish line.

            “Coming to fifty!”

            Then, she heard barking. She couldn’t believe her ears, and she certainly couldn’t believe her eyes. “COME ON, OLIVER!” She practically screamed as the golden retriever jumped the fence and started to herd the lamb through the course.

            The time was coming up on seventy-five, and he was only two-thirds of the way through. “Come on, Oliver! Come on, Ollie!” She cheered. The prince got a kick in his step, almost biting the sheep’s leg to get it moving. They came closer…eighty-two…and—

            She snapped the gate shut. “Pen’s closed!”

            The judge smiled. “EIGHTY-FOUR! Congratulations, Miss Iris West! You have won the Shepherdess competition.”

            Barry, Len, and Iris’ dad all gave a loud cheer. They had the mirror. They were going home.

            Sally Bo Peep, however, was furious. “NO! Peeps win! Peeps _always_ win!” She turned to her grandfather. “You lied to me, Wilf. You’ll regret this.”

            With that, the prissy blonde stormed off. Sore loser.

0000000

            Barry ran into the barn right after the competition, a plate of Peep food in his hands, eager check on Mick. What he found was terrifying. The ropes he’d wrapped around the wolf were shredded. The trough of water was thrown across the room. And Mick was nowhere to be found.

            Len and Joe both carried the mirror in behind him, the latter excitedly singing _‘We are the Champions’_ to keep up the Queen thing they had going on. They stopped when they saw the scared look on Barry’s face.

            “Mick’s gone.”

            Len’s carefree mask fell, and Barry his concern and fear reflected in the criminal’s eyes. Both knew that Mick wasn’t well. Len’s eyes darted around the barn, finally focusing on the trough. “Was that next to Mick when you tied him up?”

            Joe gaped at his son. “You had to tie Rory up?”

            “He asked me to, Joe.” Barry answered quickly. “Yeah, it was. Why?”

            Len frowned, but didn’t explain. Iris and Oliver both came in with similar reactions, wondering what happened and where Mick was. Soon, though, everyone wrote it off as Mick would come back later, probably with a dead sheep or something.

            _“He’s a wolf. There’s no telling what trouble he’s probably getting himself into.”_ Oliver decided to comment. Len and Barry were the only two that seemed particularly worried, but Barry tried to remind himself that Mick had been dealing with this for years. What was the worst trouble he could get into?

            Joe and Len set the mirror up against the side of a cart to look over. “How do we turn it on?”

            Len shrugged. “It was already on when Mick and I went through.”

            They all turned to Oliver. _“I fell into it.”_ The prince explained. _“There should be a hidden catch somewhere along the edges.”_

            Joe ran his hand along the frame until one of the circular decorations moved. The glass shimmered, and suddenly, they were looking at home.

“I can’t believe we have it!” He grinned. Barry shared his enthusiasm. Central City zoomed by, and he could see Jitters. All it would take would be to reach out and…

            “WOLF! WOLF! WOLF!”

            A blood-curdling scream jarred them out of their stupor, followed by the sound of an angry parade of people passing by the barn. The shouts overlapped, but there were some common words.

            “WOLF!”

            “SHE’S BEEN MURDERED! SALLY BO PEEP HAS BEEN MURDERED!”

            “KILL HIM! BURN HIM! BURN THE WOLF!”

            They all glanced between each other fearfully. Len was the first to run out the door, but Barry was a very close second. The townspeople were all gathering in the center of the town, pitchforks and torches held over their heads. In the center of the crowd, being pulled towards the jail and covered in blood, was Mick Rory.

 

                                                                                                **TO BE CONTINUED...**

 

         

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bet you thought it was going to be that easy, huh?


	3. Enter the Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The Queen isn’t going to stop looking for us. If we leave with them, she’ll never be able to find us.”
> 
> “And the fact that you have the hots for the kid is just a coincidence?”
> 
> “Don’t act like you haven’t been thinking the same.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shows up a day late with a story update. (Sorry it's been so long, these chapters are SOOOOO long and I just got a new job).

 

**Book 3: Enter the dragon**

 

**“The wolf is carnivore incarnate and he's as cunning as he is ferocious; once he's had a taste of flesh then nothing else will do.”**

**― Angela Carter**

 

Mick was a mess. His clothes were ripped to pieces and covered with blood, his face bruised and battered. He was sitting in the corner of his cell, staring into nothingness when Barry approached.

            “Mick?” He said it so quietly, it was a wonder that Mick could hear him over the shouts outside the jail calling for his death. But that wolf hearing must have been good, because he turned at the sound of his name.

            “Hey, Doll. Come to say ‘good-bye’?” The way Mick asked it was so monotone and emotionless, Barry almost believed it. But there was panic in Mick’s eyes, and sorrow. He was afraid of Barry leaving him alone with these people; probably afraid that Len would follow him instead of staying behind. Barry sighed.

            “You found out we got the mirror.”

Mick shrugged. “Lenny came by and told me about it earlier. Tell Iris good job for me. You can all finally go home.”

Barry felt his body shake as tears started forming in his eyes. Mick was being put on trial for murder and he acted like he didn’t even care. “I want to stay—” Mick snorted and Barry shook his head, “Seriously, Mick. I do. But…Joe and Iris…none of us belong here, and we may never get a chance like this again.”

Mick shrugged again. “You’ve got to do what you’ve got to do.”

Now, he was just being purposely infuriating. “I’m sure that Len is going to stick around, and he’ll prove your innocence. He’s smart and determined and knows how things around here work better than we do.”

Mick didn’t reply. Instead, he just stared back into nothingness.

“Don’t be like that, Mick.”

Still nothing.

“Please.”

Silence.

Finally, Barry had enough. “You know what? Fine! I’m staying.” Mick obviously hadn’t expected that, because his head shot back to Barry with a confused expression. “I am staying, and I am going to represent you. I will help prove that you didn’t kill anyone.”

Mick stood up and walked over to the bars. “After what I nearly did to _you,_ how are you so sure that I didn’t?”

Barry thought about it. How did he know? Not once since Mick had been accused had Barry once questioned that Mick was innocent. What was it that made him so sure? He stared into Mick’s eyes, leaning forward so that they were practically chest-to-chest through the bars. He smiled warmly.

“Because you aren’t a murderer, Mick. And I am going to prove it.”

0000000

 “You said _what_?”

Telling the others his decision went as well as he expected. First, they were frozen in shock. Then, Joe practically exploded.

“You were supposed to tell him that we were leaving! Not let him convince you to stay and play Matlock!”

“I don’t think he did it!”

Joe groaned and rolled his eyes. “Barry, he’s an animal! I know that you want to believe that he can change, but he has instincts. He is a _killer_!”

Both were fuming, so Iris took the opportunity to talk to Barry. “Barry,” She said, laying a hand on his arm. “I know you want to help, but we have the mirror now. We can go home.”

Barry nodded. “You’re right. We have the mirror. Which means that we can leave whenever we want.”

“We should go now, then!” Joe shouted. “Before we’re trampled by goblins or turned into sheep! Look, I’m not happy that they’re going to kill Rory—he’s been a great help. But he’s a wolf! Don’t think that I don’t know something went down last night. There is a dead body out there that could’ve easily been you!”

_“I think that’s the smartest thing I’ve ever heard from this entire conversation.”_ Oliver spoke up from where he was resting by the mirror. Since he’d been released from the gold curse, he’d alternated between being incredibly snarky and not speaking at all, especially to Joe.

Barry’s eyes darted over to where Len was standing silently in the corner, watching. It was obvious the whole ordeal was weighing heavily on him. When their eyes met, he tried to communicate his determination to help Mick.

The man’s lips quirked up. “Here’s what I think.” The criminal said. “Mick is wild and, at times, vicious, but he does have _some_ self-control. There’s another killer out there and, if Barry is willing to fight to make sure Mick doesn’t take the fall, I think we should let him. It’ll buy some time to find evidence to prove his innocence.”

Barry smiled widely. “So, it’s decided. I’m staying.” The West’s looked at him with annoyed and worried looks on their faces. “Neither of you have to stay. You can go home, and I’ll catch up later.”

Joe crossed his arms in disbelief. “You are out of you goddamn mind if you think I’m leaving you here.”

Iris turned the fixture on the mirror’s frame, and Central City disappeared. “It’s settled then.” She shrugged. “We’re going to clear Mick’s name.”

Joe stared at the mirror, frowning. “We can’t just leave this out where anyone can get it.” He grabbed one side of the mirror and motioned for Barry to grab the other. Together they lift it up and slid it underneath the hay in the cart the mirror had leaned on.

“You never used to be this obstinate.” Joe muttered. “You picked it up from those two.”

Barry laughed and helped him arrange the hay to cover the mirror. “And where did you and Iris get it?”

0000000

            Princess Thea Queen stood before the council, arms crossed angrily over her chest. Hearing the men cluck back and forth about coronation business instead of business of the state was infuriating, but Roy’s calming hand on her back reminded her to take a deep breath.

            “Members of the council,” She addressed in her most polite voice, which always carried an underlying tone of ‘screw you’. “Damian Dahrk and his forces are moving through our lands at an alarming rate. He has conquered every village in the southwest province. If he continues unchallenged, he will have half of the kingdom within a month.”

            “And where is Prince Oliver?” Doug Miller, one of the younger members, scoffed. “He should be leading an army against this threat. Where is he in our hour of need?”

            That was a _very_ good question. Thea hadn’t heard from her brother since the Queen’s escape and Malcolm Merlyn’s disappearance, and she was starting to freak out. She kept telling herself that if the Queen had him, they would already know it, but why stay hidden if he was okay? What was going on?

            “My brother has disappeared for a very good reason, I am sure.” Thea decided to say. “With the woman that attempted to murder him on the loose, you can sympathize with his instinct to step away for a few weeks.”

            “A few weeks? It’s been a month, your Highness!” Miller rose from his seat. “You are correct. Damian Dahrk is a horror on this land that must be dealt with. All of our forces will focus on stopping him. The prince abandoning his kingdom during its time of need, however, is unacceptable. I vote that we put a halt to the coronation. A prince that cowers in the face of danger is not fit to be king!”

            The remaining council members shared pointed looks before nodded in agreement. Thea hung her head. This isn’t what she wanted from this meeting. While the council were focusing on Oliver’s shortcomings, there were darker plays at work. She could feel it.

            The hairs on the back of her neck prickled, and she turned towards the mirror set in the wall behind her. It was almost like there was someone watching her through the glass.

0000000

            That fool! The Queen waved a hand across her mirror to cut the connection with the council chambers. Thirteen years of planning, and everything was going to crash around her because some egotistical sorcerer wanted to play King of the Mountain.

            “Contact Damian Dahrk.” She ordered. She’d tried to contact the warlock for the past week, but he was blocking her magic. He was powerful—very powerful.

            _“He continues to block me.”_

The Queen pursed her lips. “Try harder. MAKE HIM talk to me.”

            It was nearly half an hour later when Damian Dahrk’s face appeared in her mirror. His nose was dripping blood, and he was holding his head. It made the Queen quite happy to know she’d caused the unpleasant expression on his face.

            “If you _ever_ try that again…”

            The Queen rolled her eyes. “Mr. Dahrk, you don’t frighten me.” She lied. “I told you that, if you pull your troops, I would give you half of the 4th Kingdom. Yet, you continue to conquer.”

            Dahrk scoffed. “Apologies, my Queen. However, since you’ve been out, it seems that you’ve done nothing at all to show you have any chance of getting me what I want. I have decided to decline your offer.”

            The Queen’s nostrils flared. “You idiot! Leave the 4th Kingdom or you will ruin everything!”

            Dahrk laughed. “I don’t think so. In fact, after I conquer _all_ of the 4 th Kingdom, I think I’ll hunt you down like the animal you are and put an end to your miserable existence.”

He waved his hand and the image disappeared, leaving the Queen to stare at her own reflection.

0000000

The powdered wig perched on Barry’s head was driving him crazy. Frowning at himself in the mirror, he ran his hands down it in an attempt to make the flyaway hairs lay down, but the wool wig seemed to have a mind of its own. He sighed; he looked like a British lawyer.

“Nice look, Scarlet.”

He spun around to see Len leaned against the doorway. His usual smirk was in place, but Barry could see the clear worry in his eyes. He was scared for Mick.

Barry smiled back at him. “I have to wear this. It’s their rules.”

Len stepped into the room, glancing back to make sure that no one was in the hallway outside. “You need to be careful, Barry.” He warned. “These people are small-minded and biased. They’ve already pegged Mick as guilty, and if you aren’t careful, they might hang you with him. Just…”

The criminal sighed, his air of coolness dropping for a moment. He could see the fear, the worry, the raw emotion behind Len’s eyes as he brushed his fingers against Barry’s cheek. “I don’t want to lose you both.”

Barry found himself speechless. All he felt he could do was stare at Len, shocked. Footsteps in the hallway outside broke them both from their stupor, and Len almost jumped away when Joe entered the room. The detective’s eyes darted between the two of them, disapproval radiating off of him, but Barry ignored it. Joe had been little else but disapproving since he decided to help Mick.

“The trial’s about to start.” He informed them. Len gave a small nod and left the room, probably to go find a seat, while Joe motioned for Barry to follow him out.

“I can’t believe you agreed to represent him.” Joe repeated for what was probably the fifth time. They made their way out of the small office he’d been given to change in and through the hallways of the courthouse, which technically was the meeting house for the town that doubled as a courthouse. They headed down the stairwell towards where Mick was waiting for them. “Barry, you’re a forensic scientist. You don’t know anything about defense law.”

Barry rolled his eyes. “Joe, it’ll be fine. I have a clear understanding of the law, and there is no proof that Mick did any of this. How hard could it be?”

“Bare, you know about _our_ laws. These people’s laws could be entirely different.”

“Justice is universal, Joe.” Barry quipped back. For all of his bravado, however, Barry was worried. Worried he’d fail Mick, that he wouldn’t be able to prove his innocence. Maybe even worried Mick actually did it.

 Once they reached the bottom step, Barry’s eyes fell on Mick, cuffed outside of the courtroom door. The wolf was dirty and tired, but the wicked gleam that had been lingering his eyes was gone, replaced by exhaustion and an almost childlike fear. Barry’s resolve came back full force. Mick was innocent.

“It’ll be fine.” He reassured Joe one last time. “Go take your seat.”

Joe sighed wearily, before stomping away. Barry blew out a breath. He didn’t want to admit it, but Joe was right. He didn’t know anything about the laws. He didn’t even know if he could defend Mick. But, God, he had to try.

Mick raised his head when he heard him approaching, and his eyes lit up. “Hey, Doll.” He greeted, a small smile on his face. The wolf already looked defeated. Usually, Mick would fight off anyone that touched him. Now, though…

Barry plastered on the brightest smile he could muster. “Ready to win?” He asked as he lead them towards the doorway of the courtroom.

Mick snorted. “I appreciate what you’re doing here, but it’s a lost cause. Whatever piece of crap jury they pick from this backwards village is going to have their answer ready before you say anything. You should take your family, take Len, and go home. Save yourselves.”

To hear those words leave the wolf’s mouth broke Barry’s heart. “Have some faith, Mick. Any jury can be swayed by truth.”

He pushed open the courtroom doors…and his jaw dropped. In the jury box, instead of the jury of peers Barry had expected, there were twelve sheep in a row, baaing and shifting in place.

“This is going to be harder than I thought.” Barry whispered to himself as he pulled Mick with him towards the small podium for the defense set up underneath the spectators’ balcony.  He frowned when he realized there was no podium for the prosecution. Was this whole trial just going to be him begging for Mick’s life?

The town judge entered the room, and everyone rose to their feet. Barry could hear whispers above him of “Burn the Wolf”, but he ignored them in favor of focusing on his opening statement. The judge gaveled the session to order, and everyone took their seats.

“It gives me no pleasure to sentence this wolf to death for the terrible crime he has committed—”

Barry jumped to his feet. “Your Honor! We haven’t heard any evidence yet.” What kind of justice system was this?

An unpleasant expression appeared on the judge’s face. “Very well, boy. Just make it quick.”

Barry couldn’t believe this place. Mick was right—it was a backwards village. What kind of people were they? Composing himself, he cleared his throat. “Ladies and gentleman of the…” he glanced over at the sheep and swallowed, “jury. Ewes and Rams, this poor man, Michael Rory, is not a killer. Today, I will prove that to you all.”

 He laid his hand on the side of the box, only to yank it back quickly when one of the sheep tried to bite him. This was crazy. He was making a case to a bunch of SHEEP! “Not only will I do that, but by the time we are finished, I will also have unmasked the true killer.”

When he turned back to the judge, the man wasn’t even paying attention. Instead, he was talking to some woman beside him, ordering his lunch.

“Hey!” Mick growled from behind his podium. “The kid is talking!”

The judge stopped to glare at Mick before rolling his eyes. “Fine. Continue, Mr. Allen.”

Barry nodded. “I want everyone to look at this man. Is he a large man? Yes. Is he a strange man? Yes. But that doesn’t make him a killer. That doesn’t make him a wolf. I’d like to call my first witness.”

The judge leaned back. “You aren’t finished yet?”

0000000

From the top of the balcony, Joe watched Barry flail his way through the trial. From his questioning of one of the Peep girls—which went nowhere except proving that Rory had been practically drooling for them since they stepped foot in the village—to Barry outright accusing the person in the wolf mask from the night before of being the real murderer—who turned out to be the judge.

Now, Barry was rambling and stuttering the way he did when he was nervous or lying.

“But if Mick Rory _isn’t_ the killer, who is?” Barry swallowed hard. “…I find myself asking…myself…”

Joe hung his head. He had no love for Mick Rory, but if Barry believed he wasn’t the murderer, then there was someone out there that was.

“We’ve got to find the real killer before they decide to string Barry up with Rory.” He whispered. Iris and Snart both nodded.

“What exactly is your plan?” Snart asked, his eyes locked on the wolf below.

“Oliver, Iris, and I are going to go out and follow Sally Bo Peep’s steps from the competition. You stay here and keep an eye on what’s happening. I have a feeling this is going to get worse before it gets better.”

_“Why do I have to go? I think the wolf is guilty.”_ Oliver snarked.

“Because our resident nose is on trial, so you’re the next best thing. We need you to sniff out the evidence.”

_“You mean the evidence that he did it?”_

Joe rolled his eyes. “Look,” He lowered his voice to a rumble. “I don’t care what you think, alright? That’s my kid down there defending that wolf because he believes he’s innocent. And I believe in Barry. So, if you think that you’re going to sit up here on your paws not helping and that we’re going to feed you tonight, you better rethink that real fast.”

He could hear Snart chuckling, but his focus was on the dog that claimed to be Barry’s friend. After a moment, the prince sighed. _“Fine. But I’m against this.”_ He jumped down from his chair and ran for the door.

0000000

Since the call to Dahrk, the Queen’s day had taken a sharp, downward spiral. And that was before a young maid summoned her to the prince’s room.

The servant opened the door, and the Queen could see why she’d been rushed. On the table in the center of the room was a chair. Standing on the chair, with a sheet noose around his neck, was her dog prince. She raised an eyebrow.

            “Is there…a problem that you wish to discuss?”

            He nodded Prince Oliver’s head. “I no longer wish to be a man. I want to be a dog.”

            The Queen pursed her lips and pretended to nod in understanding. “Please explain.”

            The dog prince’s brow furrowed, like he was really questioning why he wanted to be a dog again. “Well, how can I stroke myself? Who will give me tummy rubs? I can’t be a master _and_ a dog!”

            He nodded, proud of himself for making his point clear. It almost made the Queen care. Almost. She stepped forward and laid a hand on the chair. “You have made a good point, your Highness. Now, allow me to make mine.”

            She could see the exact moment the prince realized he’d made a mistake. With a shove of her hand, the chair fell away. The dog prince choked and clawed at the noose around his neck as his feet kicked through the air. The Queen just watched with a smirk.

Lucky for him, the sheet broke. The prince gasped for breath, but the Queen felt no pity. Instead, she grabbed his face harshly. “There are no masters here! Only one mistress.” She released him and turned to leave, ignoring his sobs.

0000000

            Oliver trudged along ahead of the Wests, his nose to the ground, his mind focused on one task: find a piece of evidence that Oliver was almost certain didn’t exist to prove someone that was most definitely guilty innocent. Seeing Barry adamantly defending Rory in court made him think though—Barry had a quality about him that made you _want_ to believe in people. He was doing this for him. 

            He caught Rory’s scent near the outline of Sally Bo Peep’s body. It was faint, but definitely there.

            He sighed. _“The wolf was here.”_ Something about the smell caught his attention. _“Wait. His smell is older than Sally’s. At least an hour older. He WASN’T here when Sally died. And there’s another smell here…”_

The smell was from a completely different person. Someone that was there before Sally died. Her scent and the stranger’s were mingled together, so he followed them to where they met. He skidded to a stop outside of the barn with the magic well. Except the doors were thrown open, and there was now a pile of ripped up wood and hay where the well had been.

            When Joe and Iris caught up, both froze in place. “My god…” Joe hissed.

            “The well…” Iris shook her head. “It’s destroyed. Who did this?”

            Oliver followed his nose inside towards the pile. There was something hidden under it…

0000000

            The judge banged his gavel. The crowd was getting antsy with each moment that passed without a verdict. Barry bit his lip nervously. This was _not_ going the way he’d wanted. He’d given up trying to be optimistic when he actually _accused the judge_ of being the killer. From the look of things, Mick was exhausted from the entire situation.

            “This morning,” The judge announced, “just hours before the murder, there was a chicken massacre in one of the henhouses. Were you involved?”

            Mick shook his head. Barry sighed with relief. If he could prove that Mick didn’t kill the chickens, maybe everyone would believe that he didn’t kill Sally.

            The judge was doubtful. “You were nowhere near the henhouse?”

            Barry scoffed. “If my client says he wasn’t there, he wasn’t there.”

            Then, the judge pulled out a familiar scrap of fabric. It was blue and ripped and covered in blood. He glanced over at Mick to be sure of what he was looking at, and his heart dropped.

            “How, Mr. Rory, do you explain this? A piece of your shirt, covered in chicken’s blood, found inside the henhouse.”

            Barry hung his head. He could almost sense Len doing the same from the stands.

            “Ohhhhh, those chickens.” Mick said unconvincingly. “Yeah, I did eat those.”

            A roar erupted from the stands. The townspeople cried for Mick’s head.

            “That doesn’t mean he killed Sally!” Barry shouted over them, but a tomato flew from above a smacked his cheek.

            “Burn him, too!” One of the farmer Peeps called. “Burn them both!”

            The gypsy queen’s words echoed in Barry’s head:

            _…great love in your future, but also great loss. Someone you love very dearly will die._

_…a youth torn to pieces…blood on your hands…you are going to burn…_

It couldn’t end like this. He hadn’t even decided about his feelings for Mick, much less if he was going to act on them. He couldn’t let this happen.

“Just because I ate some drumsticks don’t mean I’m a murderer!” He heard Mick shouting over the crowd.

The judge scoffed. “Then why did you lie?”

Barry turned towards the wolf, arms crossed over his chest. “Yeah, why did you lie?”

“Because if I admitted to the chickens, then you would think that I killed the broad, too!”

“Well, now they do.” Barry hissed, dropping his head into his hands. This was getting worse and worse.

He didn’t even realize the judge had called for the jury’s verdict until two of the townsmen were placing signs that said _“Guilty”_ and _“Innocent”_ over stalls on either side of Mick. Except the Guilty one was full of vegetables.

They released the sheep.

“This is unjust!” Barry argued as the sheep piled into the Guilty stall. “That stall has food in it! He’s innocent!”

But the townspeople ignored him. A mob of people rushed in to grab Mick and drag him outside.

0000000

It was Len’s worst nightmare. The moment the unsurprising Guilty verdict was passed, he ran from the stands. The mob was already there, though, dragging Mick out of the courtroom with Barry shouting protests behind them, trying to fight his way to towards the wolf.

Once he stepped foot outside, Len’s whole world stopped. There was a pyre set up in the center of the square. He’d known that they were going to burn Mick, but seeing where they were going to do it…

He ran into the mob. He needed to stop this. Mick was in the front of the crowd, fighting back, but what was one wolf against an angry mob? He was thrown against the stake on the pyre, and two men wrapped thick ropes around his torso. Barry was being held back by one of the larger Peeps, but he was fighting hard against the hold.

“STOP!” He was screaming. “STOP, PLEASE! HE’S INNOCENT!”

Len knew that, if Barry broke free, he’d run right up to the pyre to free Mick. It was clear that the townspeople weren’t going to let that happen—it would take a miracle to free Mick now. They might burn Barry though, if he tried to stand in their way.

He pushed to the front and pulled the younger man from the Peep. Barry fought against him too, but Len dragged him against his chest. “Don’t look, Scarlet.” He said into his ear. Wilfred Peep stepped forward with a lit torch. “Don’t watch.”

He prepared himself to watch Mick burn alive—because someone the wolf cared about should, and he wouldn’t let it be Barry. But then, a shout echoed from the back of the crowd.

“Stop the execution!” The crowd’s shouts died down, and everyone turned to see The Wests running for the pyre. “Rory is innocent, and we can prove it!”

Wilf shook his head. “They’ll say anything.” He lowered the torch, but West grabbed it before the flames touched the hay. Once he ripped it from the man’s hands and threw it away, Iris turned to address the crowd.

“The Peeps have been cheating everyone in this town for years!” She announced. “Years ago, Wilfred and others blocked off the water of the Wishing Well so that they could keep it all for themselves.”

“Sally was angry, wasn’t she, Wilfred?” West growled. “When she lost, we all heard her saying that you would pay. So, she ran to the barn and tore up the well. But you saw her, chased her down from the barn, and murdered her.”

The crowd gasped, and a new anger flared up in Len’s chest. This murderer was going to let Mick burn for nothing but vanity. He reached for his hunting knife, but a gentle hand laid on top of his to stop him. When he looked at Barry, the younger man gave a small shake of his head.

Wilfred snarled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. It’s all lies.”

Iris smirked. “Where’s your jacket? The one you were wearing at the competition?”

Before the man could answer, Joe whistled. A surprised murmur spread through the crowd as the parted from the back. Len almost laughed when Oliver Queen, of all people, trotted forward, Wilf’s bloodied coat in his mouth. Joe took it with a grin.

“Sally wasn’t shouting ‘Wolf’. She was shouting ‘Wilf’ as you murdered her!”

“You killed our Sally?!” The young shepherdess’ mother asked, clutching her heart.

“Murderer!” A shout came from the crowd.

“Cheats!” Came another.

Before a fight could break out, Len and Barry rushed up to the pyre and cut Mick free. All it took was one punch being thrown, and suddenly, there was a riot in the town square. The three clambered down from the pyre and, with Iris, Joe, and Oliver on their heels, ran from the mob.

0000000

Mick couldn’t stop smiling. Already, he could feel the moon’s influence fade away, his uncontrollable, animal side fading with it. He threw his arms over Len and Barry’s shoulders as they all walked back to the barn, basking in the feeling of being alive.

“You seem especially chipper.” Barry grinned. The wolf could feel him leaning into his side, but didn’t mention it. Instead, he chuckled.

“Happy to be alive. I’m even willing to give prince-y over there a belly rub.”

A few feet away, Prince Oliver growled. Barry laughed. “Yeah, I’m not sure if he’d like that very much.”

Iris, who’d been walking ahead of them, spun around to talk to them. “So. We have our wolf back. We have the mirror. What are we going to do now?”

Just like that, Mick’s good mood deflated. Right, the mirror. He hadn’t really thought about it while he was locked away, since he hadn’t thought that he’d really get off on the charges, but now that Iris won the mirror, Barry could go home.

What did that mean for him and Lenny?

They entered the barn, and suddenly, all of Mick’s worries disappeared. The barn was empty. Joe and Iris were staring at a bare spot in the center of the barn in shock and horror. “The mirror…it’s gone.”

The woman that owned the barn decided to walk in at that moment, a basket of laundry in her hands. “Oh, my son, John, took the cart to market this morning. You didn’t leave anything on it, did you?”

Barry deflated in Mick’s arms, leaning his forehead against his shoulder. “Which way and how far is the market?”

The woman sighed. “It’s not a journey you’d want to take on foot. If you head for the Prince’s road, however, there should be some carts heading that way that you can hitch up on.”

Mick resisted the urge to smile. The mirror was gone again. Barry would be with them a little while longer.

0000000

The dog didn’t understand. He had been minding his own business, searching the castle for a place to bury the bone he’d stolen from the table at lunch, when one of the humans that his mistress kept around dragged him outside for something called a ‘riding lesson’.

            That’s when he came face-to-face with a large creature referred to as a ‘horse’. It smelled terrible, not at all like a dog or a human. He shook his head. “I don’t like horses. Dogs don’t like horses.”

            The human sighed. “But princes do. Now, up you get.”

            He motioned to some seat on the horse’s back. The dog prince eyed it nervously, considering his options. On one paw, he could get injured on the horse. On the other, if the Queen found out he’d refused one of her orders, she might kill him.

            The other human forced him up onto the horse. He quaked from his perch, his hands clutching the horse’s hair.

            “You’ve got to give it a kick.” The human ordered.

            He tapped the horse’s neck. With a sigh, the human walked around to the back of the animal, and there was a loud _crack_. The horse shot off faster than anything the dog had seen. He squeezed his eyes shut and screamed, wanting to get off and go back to his room, though he knew he was much too far away now.

0000000

_A rigged vessel would have been entangled in the blocked up gorges. A vessel without sails, with electricity for its motive power, and wanting no coal, could alone brave such high latitudes. At length, on the 18th of March, after many useless assaults, the Nautilus was positively blocked. It was no longer either streams, packs, or ice-fields, but an interminable and immovable barrier, formed by mountains soldered together._

_"An iceberg!" said the Canadian to me._

_I knew that to Ned Land, as well as to all other navigators who had preceded us, this was an inevitable obstacle._

 

            Joe moved his hand to turn the page, but a paw dropped onto the book in his hands. _“Hang on.”_ Oliver scoffed. _“I haven’t finished that page yet!”_

He rolled his eyes. If someone had asked him two months ago if he ever thought that he’d be riding in the back of a hay wagon, reading _20,000 Leagues Under the Sea_ with a dog, along with both of his kids, a criminal, and the Big Bad Wolf, he’d have locked them in the drunk tank.

            He glanced over at his two kids with a sigh. Iris was sitting across from Rory, a loop of string twisted through her fingers as she taught him how to Cat’s Cradle. Barry was conked out—the trial and almost execution had taken a lot out of him. His head was resting on Snart’s shoulder, which sparked a bit of rage in the detective’s stomach, but so far, Snart and Rory had helped and watched out for his kids, so if Barry felt safe sleeping beside him, Joe could force himself to feel a tiny bit comfortable with it. It would’ve been more, if the criminal in question wasn’t sharpening his hunting knife so close to his son.

            Hours seemed to be bleeding into each other. They’d left in the early, early morning—Fidelity was kind enough to let them stay one more night in the barn, despite the trouble they’d caused—and immediately hitched a ride on a cart leaving for the market. The driver hadn’t mentioned a town name, but Snart and Rory seemed to know exactly where they were going, if the unsubtle wag of Rory’s eyebrows meant anything.

            “How much further to this town?” He asked, just as Oliver nudged him to turn the page.

            “About another half hour.” Mick answered, weaving his fingers into Iris’ string. “You’ll know when we’re there. Trust me.”

            A small groan came from Barry, who snuggled his face further into Snart’s shoulder. They couldn’t get there soon enough. He knew that they were heading towards where they started—the town was not quite to the prison, and a little farther east than Rivertown, but it seemed like the mirror was leading them all across the 4th Kingdom.

            He turned the page and returned to Captain Nemo’s adventures.

0000000

            The hunt was slow going—the injury from the bear trap had reduced him to using a walking stick, and his eye was now completely useless—but it was clear that his quarry were following something of their own. Something important enough to run through the entire 4th Kingdom for.

            At first, he’d thought that maybe they were attempting to rally people behind Prince Oliver, or to warn them that the prince wasn’t the _real_ prince. But there had been no whispers that he’d heard about fake Olivers or armies forming. They were after something else. The moment he found out what that was, the easier it would be to secure the prince.

            He couldn’t best them in a fight—they outnumbered him 6-to-1. But, he could outmaneuver them.

            Slade laughed, following the cart trail that cut across the fields of the 4th Kingdom. No one escapes the Huntsman.

0000000

            Len had never been to the Kissing Town. Sure, he’d heard stories—everyone in the 9 Kingdoms had heard the stories. The town was, after all, an important cornerstone of their history. But he and Mick tended to avoid populated areas while on the run, usually keeping towards the border of the 4th Kingdom to make it easier to slip into another kingdom undetected. Kissing Town was in the heart of the kingdom. How was that for irony?

            A sniffle drew his attention, and he glanced down at the sleeping boy leaning on his shoulder. He smiled at the peaceful expression on Barry’s face. If there was one person he didn’t mind getting dragged into the most romantic town in the 9 Kingdoms for, it was him.

            “Scarlet.” He gave him a small shake. Barry moaned as he raised his head, his eyes blinking the sleep away.

            “Wha…?”

            “We’re here.” He smirked when Barry’s eyes focused on the town ahead of them. Kissing Town was a beautiful—the buildings were tall, surrounded by gardens and fountains, and an array of heart shaped balloons filled the air. The streets were lined with signs advertising _‘Kissing Lessons’, ‘Free Weddings’_ , and _‘Engagement Rings for Sale’._ The air smelled like rose petals and cinnamon.

            Barry’s eyes traced over all of this, his mouth hanging open. “It’s the Kissing Town.” Len explained as the cart pulled to a stop at a curb in front of a _‘Romantic Tours’_ building. “The love capital of the 9 Kingdoms. People come here just to fall in love.”

            “Wow…” Barry whispered, watching as a large group of people cheered a bride and groom running gleefully from one of the buildings.

            “Is it magical?” Iris asked, eyeing the town with the same level of awe.

            Mick chuckled as he jumped down out of the cart and held a hand out to help her out. “Of course. No one knows why the town is so magical, only that for the past three-hundred-years, love magic has surrounded everyone that comes here.”

            Once Iris was out, he stepped over to help Len out, grabbing him by the waist and practically swinging him down, much to the criminal’s dismay. He held Barry down in the same way, and West jumped out to help the prince down.

            Mick kept his hands around Len and Barry, breathing in the smells of Kissing Town. “My grandma brought me here once, when I was a pup. Said that everyone finds love in the Kissing Town.”

            West snorted, his eyes narrowing as they fell on where Mick was holding Barry’s waist. “I’d reevaluate that, Rory.”

            Barry rolled his eyes, but stepped away from the two all the same. “Let’s find the mirror.”

            Before they could step away, however, a little girl dressed like a cherub skipped over to them. Len frowned—was this normal is Kissing Town?

            “Hello. I’ve been looking for you all day.” She stopped in front of Barry, who grinned widely at her. “I see love and fortune coming your way.”

            Len raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Really?”

            “Yes.” The girl’s eyes stayed on Barry. “Your aura says that great love and fortune will be in your hands,” for the first time since she approached, her eyes left Barry, skimming over to Mick, “before the night is out.”

            Joe chuckled. “Yeah, sure. Which of us is getting the fortune?”

            The girl turned towards him with a frown. “Your aura is cloudy.” She held out her hand and smiled. “Just give me a couple of coins.”

            Len snorted—little con artist—but Barry slung his pack onto one arm and pulled out five gold Queens. He dropped them in the girl’s hand with a genuine smile.

            Joe scoffed. “You are such a soft touch.”

            Mick nodded in agreement. “Soft, smooth, creamy—”

            “Alright, that’s enough.”

            The girl pocketed the money. “Thank you for your donation. I believe what you seek is over there.” She pointed across the street. Len couldn’t believe it.

            It was the farmer’s cart.

            “I don’t believe it.” Iris spoke up. “How did she know?” But when they turned back, the cherub girl was gone.

           

Fidelity’s son…whatever she said his name was…walked out of a nearby store, a huge grin plastered on his face. That is, until Mick grabbed him and pushed him against the side of his cart. Len crossed his arms nonchalantly and gave him a tight-lipped smile. 

            “There was a mirror in this cart.” He drawled threateningly. “Where is it?”

            “I…I…don’t know.” The farmer stuttered, glancing between the two.

            Mick snarled. “Wrong answer.”

            Len chuckled as his partner’s hands tightened around the farmer’s jacket, and the man paled.

            “I sold it!” He yelled, clearly terrified by whatever Mick was planning on doing to him. “I sold it to some man that works at the antiques market, I swear!”

            Mick turned back towards Len, eyebrow raised. _What do you think?_ He was asking.

Len pursed his lips and gave his head a tilt. _Sounds honest._

That was enough for Mick. “He’s telling the truth.” He said, dropping the man to the ground.

            Barry, who’d been watching with both shock and slight amusement, helped the man to his feet with a smile. “Thank you, and sorry about that.”

            Len smiled. West was right—soft touch.

            The man hurried away, wanting to put as much space between himself and Mick as possible. Once he was out of sight, Len sighed. “Well, that’s an inconvenience. Other than romance, the Kissing Town is known mostly for its antiques. There are hundreds of antiquities dealers all over the town.”

            “We split up, then.” Iris suggested. “Dad and I go together, Barry with Oliver since he can understand him, and Len and Mick.”

            Joe snorted. “Yeah, I don’t see anything wrong with letting the klepto and the Big Bad Wolf go off alone together.”

            Barry rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed by his father’s mistrust of them. Honestly, Len wasn’t sure what he or Mick could do outside of actually dying for Barry to get the detective off their backs. “Fine. You go with Oliver, since you can understand him too. Iris will go with Len, and I’ll go with Mick.”

            “I’ve changed my mind.” Joe said quickly, but Barry was already leading Mick away by the hand, the wolf looking overly pleased with himself.

            Iris laughed at the disgust on her father’s face, before nudging Len’s shoulder. “Looks like it’s you and me.” She smiled leading the way towards the town square.

            At least they had one West’s support.

0000000

            Oliver had been to Kissing Town once when he was a young pup— _prince._ A young prince. Thea had been a baby at the time, and his father had decided to show him around the kingdom. At the time, he hadn’t been able to appreciate the beauty of the area, or find romance, but he’d been all of ten years old, so it hadn’t bothered him.

            Now, leading Joe West towards the auction houses, he realized that he _still_ was in no position to take in the wonders of Kissing Town. But if it meant helping Barry and his family out of the situation he dragged them into, he didn’t mind running around Kissing Town as a mutt.

            “I don’t like this.” Joe grumbled, glancing back as though he could still see his kids walking away. “I don’t like it one bit. I should’ve volunteered to go with Rory, and Barry could’ve come with you. There’s no telling what that wolf is up to.”

            Oliver couldn’t find it in himself to disagree. _“The more you try to pull Barry away, the more he’s going to want to be around them.”_ He said instead, leading Joe into one of Kissing Town’s most prestigious auction house. _“My mom always tried to get me to calm down and be a ‘proper prince’. It just made me want to rebel more.”_

They passed by paintings of famous tales—Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, The Naked Emperor—and moved into a room full of statues. Joe snorted. “Well, my kid ain’t you. Iris is the rebellious one. Barry’s one of those kids that always did as he was told, with a grin on his face.”

            _“Maybe he just never had something worth rebelling for.”_ Oliver suggested. Joe opened his mouth like he was going to argue, but his eyes fell on something ahead that made him freeze in his tracks.

            “No…” He whispered. “How in the hell…?”

            Oliver followed his eyeline, wondering what could cause the look of fear on the detective’s face. Suddenly, he shared his sentiments.

            Across the room, still shining golden bright, was Malcolm Merlyn. His face was still frozen in the same furious expression he’d been wearing as he chased Oliver through Rivertown, his hand still reaching forward to catch him. How had the statue found its way back to them?

            “It’s called _Assassin’s Rage_.” The owner of the auction house was standing beside them, staring at Malcolm with a grin. “A statue of the great king so realistic, so passionately angry. The artist must have had great skill. Are you interested?”

            Joe laughed somewhat rudely. “Not even a little. But I am looking for a mirror with a black frame?”

            The owner’s face fell, disappointed. “Yes, I think I saw something like that. It’s in there.” He pointed towards the next room, and Joe didn’t even thank the man before he was running inside.

            There, right at the entrance, was the magic mirror. “It’s only 15 gold pieces.” Joe whispered, glancing at the tag. “They don’t know what it is. We need to find Barry—he has Iris’ winnings in his bag.”

            Oliver turned to see an older elf—about Joe’s height, dressed in elvish green, with long gray hair and a carved wood walking stick—approaching. _“There’s someone coming over. Pretend like you aren’t interested. No one can know what it really is.”_

Joe’s face quickly transformed into a look of disinterest. It didn’t stop the elf from nudging him excitedly. “It’s nice, isn’t it? They think it’s just a mirror, but I am quite the historian, and I believe it’s very old and _very_ special. It might even be early Cinderellian.”

            Oliver could see the discomfort on Joe’s face. “No. This mirror? It’s…it’s junk.” He lied. “Not worth anything.”

            The elf frowned as he turned to leave, and Oliver trotted after him. They needed to find the others.

0000000

            Barry and Mick spent maybe an hour searching the market before the latter decided that they should take a break.

            “I want to show you something.” He explained, leading Barry away from town towards a large hill not too far away. They walked close together, their hands brushing every now and then. With each contact, Barry’s heart fluttered a little. When they were closer to the top, Mick stopped.

 “Lenny doesn’t buy into romance and happy ever afters, but that doesn’t mean that they don’t exist. You know the story of Snow White?”

            Barry nodded.

            “Well, after she bit the apple, the Dwarves brought her here in a glass coffin to see if there was anyone that loved her enough to kiss her awake.”

            Barry’s jaw dropped. “ _Here?_ Like ‘Kissing Town’ here, or like—?”

            Mick motioned to the top of the hill where a replica of the glass coffin was set up for people to lay in and gets portraits made. He gaped in surprise.

            “This is where Snow White met the prince?”

            Mick nodded. “Snow White was a great Queen. My grandma used to tell me about how fair and loved she was. How she respected all people—even wolves.”

            “Your grandma knew Snow White?”

            “She was Queen Riding Hood I.” Mick shrugged. “I don’t talk about that part of my family much, though, since Queen Riding Hood II banished my mother for marrying a wolf.”

            They continued up the hill, hand in hand, and when they reached the coffin, Mick gave the portrait man a few coins.

            Barry resisted the urge to giggle when they were posed with him lying in the coffin and Mick kneeling over him, like he was going to kiss him. The strange thing was, Barry _wanted_ him to. He wanted Mick to lean down and take his lips with his own. Or Len to show up and kiss him. Or both. God, what was up with him? Was it the town? Did it really have love magic everywhere? Or was it kicking up feelings he’d buried since he met the wolf and the criminal?

            “Do you believe in happy ever after?” Barry asked quietly, trying to distract himself from his thoughts.

            Mick gave a small nod. “Happy ever after doesn’t mean what you think. People that have them usually live to be about one-hundred and fifty before dying peacefully in their sleep. That’s what happened to my grandma.”

            Barry nearly jumped up. One-hundred and fifty years old! “What about Snow White? Where is she now?”

            “No one really knows.” Mick sighed. “When she turned one fifty, she left the castle with nothing but the clothes she was wearing. She’s definitely dead, but no one knows where she was buried.”

            They fell into silence again. Barry’s eyes where squeezed shut to keep himself from laughing at their proximity, but he could still feel Mick’s breath against his skin, and his warmth radiating on him. It was comfortable.

            “Barry.” He opened his eyes at Mick’s gravelly voice. He hadn’t even noticed that he was drifting off to sleep. The wolf smiled down at him. “I think he’s done.”

            He glanced over towards the artist, who held up a finished portrait of the two of them. Behind him stood Joe, Iris, Len, and Oliver.

            “Will you two quit goofing around?” Joe called. “We found the mirror, and you have our money.”

            Barry practically rolled out of the coffin, nearly forgetting to grab his backpack in his rush over the rest of their group. He tried not to flush at the unimpressed looks Joe and Iris—and Oliver, but he was a dog, so who was he to judge? — were sending him, or at the smirk Len was giving both of them. They all hustled down the hill, Joe and Oliver leading them to the auction house that was selling the mirror.

            “It’s only fifteen gold Queens.” Joe grinned. “They don’t know what it is!”

            When they entered the room the mirror was in, however, there was a new sign on it.

Lot 7

Fine Magic Mirror-Early Cinderellian

Dwarf Made and Ruined

5000 Gold Queens

           

_“That no good elf!”_ Oliver growled. _“He must have found out what it was!”_

“We’ll never raise that much money in time.” Barry gasped. They were stuck. Again.

0000000

They pooled together their money sitting in the town square and confirmed their fears: there wasn’t enough for the mirror. Barry fell back with a groan, his head landing on Len’s lap. Joe was so upset about the mirror, he didn’t even bother looking displeased. “What are we going to do?”

Len pursed his lips in thought, but Barry glared up at him. “We’re not robbing people.”

“I was going to suggest pickpocketing. It’s easier and far less noticeable.”

Mick snorted. “Even _you_ couldn’t pickpocket enough to turn fifty Queens into five thousand by the auction tomorrow.”

A thoughtful silence fell over the group, and Barry’s attention turned to Oliver sitting sadly at underneath a board with a huge notice on it:

 

 PRINCE OLIVER DISGRACED. CORONATION CANCELLED.

 

He felt bad for the prince—if there was one thing Oliver cared about, it was his people, and seeing them hurt and lose faith in him must have hurt something terrible.

Suddenly, Iris jumped to her feet. “I have an idea!” Everyone, even Oliver, turned to listen. “How do you turn money into more money?” She pointed behind them to the LUCKY IN LOVE CASINO.  “We gamble.”

“That’s…” Mick started, thinking hard. “That’s actually not a bad idea.”

Barry snorted, raising his head from Len’s lap. “Iris, we can’t even win poker with Joe. How are we going to win that much money?”

Joe ignored him, pouring all of their gold Queens into his hands. “We’re going to split the money between us—ten each. That way our chances aren’t hindered by anyone’s bad luck.” He gave each person their Queens. “We go in, we win. One of us has to make a fortune before the casino closes.”

Barry took the money with a sigh. “Fine, but I have an idea.” He opened his backpack and pulled out a sheet of paper and a pen. “This way,” he said, sketching big, blocked letters on the paper. “We can get some money even if we lose.”

He walked over to Oliver, who was eyeing him apprehensively. When the prince saw the paper, he shook his head. _“That’s not happening, Barry.”_

“Yes it is.” Barry argued, attaching the paper to his collar. He stepped back and admired his work.

LUCKY GAMBLING DOG

PLEASE SPLIT WINNINGS 50/50

 

Behind him, he could hear Mick and Len laughing. “Nice look, _your majesty_.” Len drawled. Oliver gave his best glare, but didn’t try to remove the sign. Barry took that as a positive.

0000000

When the servant ducked his head in, the words, “Your Majesty, the dog prince has escaped,” quickly leaving his lips, like he was terrified of what would happen, the Queen didn’t feel furious. The feeling that washed over her was…resignation. Defeat. She hung her head. It was wrong. All of it. Her magnificent plan, almost twenty years in the making, was crashing all around her. She was lost.

            For an hour, she sat in her room, wallowing in a way she’d promised herself she never would. It melted the second she felt a magical presence bleed into the room. A small mirror leaned against the far wall of the room—her favorite, the most precious—shimmered.

_“Come to me…”_ A voice she hadn’t heard in years whispered. _“Come to me…and your mind will clear.”_

The Queen approached the mirror, allowing herself to be dragged through by the pull of magic. The magical portal was easy on her, the journey taking her a few hundred miles from where she’d already been. The first time she had been transported here, the mirror had been outside of the moss and slime covered hut. Now, however, it was where she’d hidden it after she left to begin her mission—in the cellar, next to the fairest of them all.

            “Your Majesty.” She bowed low before the dried up corpse laying on display in front of her. She remembered moving her mistresses body down here herself, preserving her spirit with magic, and locking her legacy away where no one would dare disturb it. The corpse’s eyes opened.

            _“What bothers you, my child?”_

The Queen fell to her knees. “Oliver is nowhere to be found. The dog has escaped. Damian Dahrk is running rampant across the 4th Kingdom, undermining me and ruining my plans. I have failed.”

            Her mistress tsked. _“Do not lose faith, child. An old power shields Oliver and his companions, but all will come to you in time. You will find the dog—he is nothing without his mistress. As for Damian Dahrk, kill him.”_

The Queen inhaled sharply. “How? He’s powerful, and has an army of assassins at his disposal.”

            A dry, wicked laugh echoed off the walls. One of the corpse’s hands twitched, turning over to reveal a bright, juicy red apple. _“How did I kill Snow White? The old ways are the best.”_

            Just like that, a plan formed. The Queen took the apple from her hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “Thank you, your Majesty. Thank you.”

            She turned back to the mirror.

            _“Don’t forget all that I’ve taught you, child.”_ She was reminded. _“Nothing is more important than finishing what we’ve started.”_

The Queen returned to her castle refreshed.  Let the battle commence. 

0000000

            All in all, using gambling as a way to raise money wasn’t the worst plan they’d come up with. Len had already raised nearly 900 gold Queens playing poker, and another 100 just stealing from drunk gamblers’ pots when they weren’t paying attention.

            From the looks of things, Iris had won about 300 before losing it all on Rabbit Races; Barry, who had no poker face, had lost everything quicker than he could say ‘Happily Ever After’; Mick hadn’t started betting yet, instead choosing to lurk around, watching; and West was winning big over at the Happy Families Table. He’d lost sight of the prince not long after they’d walked in, but with any hope, he’d run off and left them all in peace. Len wasn’t going to put any money on it, though.

            He watched as Barry sulked over towards the stairway leading to an upstairs balcony. Making sure West didn’t see him, he crossed the room quickly towards the stairwell.

            Barry’s back was looking out over the town, obviously lost in thought. He approached quietly, wanting to watch him unnoticed for a little while longer. The young man’s shoulders were tight with tension, the sides of his hair messy from where he’d run his fingers through it. But still, he was one of the most beautiful creatures in the 9 Kingdoms.

Len smirked. It’d been a while since he’d felt so giddy just looking at someone, but Barry had that effect on people. No matter what he asked, you just wanted to fall at his feet to make him happy.

 When he was a few feet away from him, he cleared his throat.

            Barry spun around quickly, but relaxed when he saw Len. “You startled me.” He laughed, turning back so he was facing the skyline again. Len moved so he was right beside him.

            “Needed some air?”

            Barry nodded, his eyes not leaving the night sky. “Yeah. I lost everything.” His smile fell, as though the reality of losing all of his money just hit him. “We’re going to be stuck here forever, aren’t we? I’m never going to see my dad again, or visit my mom’s grave, or get a job with the CCPD. I’m really trapped here.”

            Len’s eyes stayed on Barry, taking in every curve of his face, every freckle, every speckle of color in his eyes. He took Barry’s hand, wanting that bright smile to come back. “Don’t worry too much about it, Scarlet.” He said, stroking the back of Barry’s hand with his thumb. “I’m quite a good card player, and from what I’ve seen from the good detective, he’s not too bad himself. Besides, I’ve gotten some anonymous donations, meaning that they don’t know that they donated.”

            Barry snickered, the corner of his mouth twisting up into a half smile. Len decided he’d take it. “You’re going to get home, Barry. I promise.”

            “And what about you?”

            The question threw Len. “What about me?”

            Barry shrugged. “Well, the Queen is still out there. We’ll probably take Oliver with us; he’ll be safe in Central. But you and Mick…the Huntsman knows who you are, that you’ve been helping us. If the Queen finds you…”

            Len squeezed his hand. “We’ll be alright. We’ll survive.” He tried to sound sure, but honestly, he wasn’t. They made an oath to the Queen to bring the prince to her. If they didn’t…

            He remembered what the Queen did to people that failed her, people like his father. He resisted the urge to shiver.

            “What if,” Barry’s voice cut through his dark thoughts like a streak of sunlight. His eyes were now boring into the side of Len’s face. “What if you two came with us?”

            Len froze, definitely not expecting him to say _that_. He’d be lying if he said that he hadn’t thought about it, thought about Barry. He knew how entranced Mick was with him—hell, if he, Iris, and West had come up a few minutes later when they were getting that portrait done, they probably would’ve walked up to something much more awkward.

            Barry Allen was special. He could admit it—he had admitted it, back at the cottage when they were alone and being open. He and Mick could be happy with Barry. They could be free men, even, if they went back to his home. Sure, it might be awkward getting re-introduced to Barry’s dad, and West definitely wouldn’t approve, but they would be able to settle down.

            They could live happily ever after.

            He’d been staring back quietly at Barry through this indecision, leaning closer in. He knew about the magic of Kissing Town—how it affected people’s minds, made them feel deeper and go all googly eyed on each other. But feeling it in the air now, he knew there was so much more to it.

            Barry seemed to notice, too. “Is…is it this town?” He whispered breathily, leaning closer towards Len. His breaths tickled Len’s lips. “Doing…this. You said…there was magic.”

            “Magic can’t create feelings, Scarlet.” Len whispered back, scared that, if he spoke too loudly, he’d break the spell that’d fallen between them. “It just brings what’s already there to the surface. Like you…and Mick…and me…”

            His eyes slipped closed the second their lips brushed together. He heard Barry take in a sharp breath before relaxing and practically falling forward into Len’s arms. Len snaked an arm around his waist to steady him and kissed the young man deeper, not wanting to stop. It was like there was magic running through his veins.

When air started to be a problem, Len pulled away slightly, resting their foreheads together. Barry’s eyes were closed, his lips swollen red, and Len wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen him look more beautiful.

“Barry…” He breathed out quietly. Barry didn’t seem to be in any better shape, fighting to steady his own breathing.

“I should…” Barry whispered. “I should…probably go back inside to see how Joe is doing.”

Len released his grip on Barry, who stumbled a little light-headedly away, glancing back once he was in the entryway to send him a shy smile. Len counted it as a win.

The sound of a small shuffle behind him broke him out of his trance, and he suddenly realized he wasn’t alone on the balcony. When he turned, Mick was lingering close by, arms crossed over his chest.

Len could see that he had something to say, so he raised an eyebrow and gave a wave. “Go on, say it.”

Mick frowned.  “You’re going back to the other land.”

Len rolled his eyes. “I haven’t said yes or no—”

“But you’re going to say yes.” Mick interrupted, taking a step closer. “I’ve known you for years, Lenny. You _want_ to go. Why?”

Len opened his mouth, ready to argue, but Mick knew better. He knew Mick knew better. “Barry’s right.” He finally said. “The Queen isn’t going to stop looking for us. If we leave with them, she’ll never be able to find us.”

“And the fact that you have the hots for the kid is just a coincidence?”

“Don’t act like you haven’t been thinking the same.” Len accused, stepping into Mick’s space. “I saw you in the lamb village. We _all_ saw you and him at that Snow White attraction. You can’t tell me that he hasn’t gotten under your skin, too.”

Mick’s nostrils flared the way they did when he was trying to control his wolf. “The Kingdoms ain’t perfect, but they’re my home. They’re _our_ home. Lisa is here; were you planning on leaving her without saying goodbye?”

It was a low blow, but one that Len had considered. Lisa was off in the 5th Kingdom, married off to a nice guy with a baby on the way. She was happy and safe.

“What if Barry stayed?” Mick continued. “If he were to decide that we were worth sticking around here for, would you still leave?”

Len sighed. “Mick, the Queen—”

“We could go back to the 2nd Kingdom.” Len froze. Mick always swore he’d never go back. Not after what happened to his parents. “I still have some family that doesn’t hate my existence. We could be safe there. We could all be happy.”

Before Len could reply, Mick leaned forward to press a quick kiss to his lips. “Just think about it.” Was his last word on the matter before slipping back inside the casino.

0000000

Mick was shaking when he returned to the casino. He had no idea how to convince Barry to stay with him. Barry may have shown affection for both him and Len, but he still had family back in his world, not to mention that Iris and the detective would be trying to get him to leave, too.

If he were to lose all of his money trying to win enough to get the mirror, Barry wouldn’t be upset with him, and he’d have to stay. Then, even if they eventually found another way to get the mirror and a way back, he’d have more time to convince Barry that he could be happy staying.

Grinning at his plan, he headed for a counter where one of the hostesses were waiting.  “What game can I blow the most money on with a small chance of success?”

The woman’s smile faltered a bit. “I don’t know about that, sir, but the game with the longest odds and the biggest payout is the Jack Rabbit Jackpot.” She motioned behind her to a large wheel attached to the wall, split into colorful sections. The smallest one was about ¼ of an inch wide, with the word WINNER on it. It was perfect. “One golden Queen to play.”

Mick slapped his coin down on the table, and the hostess spun the wheel. About five turns and losses later, Mick was over the moon. The hostess laughed.

“I’ve never seen a man so happy to lose.” She observed. Normally, he’d have told her to mind her own business, but he was riding high enough to indulge her.

“I’m a man in love, trying to hold onto it.” He replied, laying down another coin. The woman raised an eyebrow.

“Who’s the lucky love?” She asked joyfully. Mick turned to nod towards a card table in the corner where Barry was hovering over Len’s shoulder as he hustled some poor old lady. The hostess gave a nod of approval.

“He’s pretty. I see why you like him.”

He wasn’t sure which one she meant, Barry or Len, but she was right all the same. He smiled in what was probably a dopey way. All he had to do was lose five more times. Then, he could stay with Len and Barry.

Of course, his luck couldn’t keep. Alarms and bells rang out over the counter. The woman’s jaw dropped.

“I don’t know if you’re the luckiest or unluckiest man here, sir. You’ve just won the Jack Rabbit Jackpot—a total of 10,000 golden Queens.”

Mick’s heart slammed to a stop. He glanced back at Len and Barry, but both were so wrapped up in the game that they didn’t notice. The hostess leaned over the counter conspiringly. “If you want, sir, I can get you over to the winnings table quickly to get your winnings before he sees.”

Mick frowned at how understanding this woman was, but nodded and followed her towards the table, where she quickly counted it out and put it in a bag for him. “It’s not my business, sir, and I don’t know your situation, but perhaps you should use it to woo your pretty boy.”

Before he could reply, her fake smile was back. “Have a good night, and enjoy your winnings, sir. Though, if you’d like a romantic dinner suggestion, the best restaurant in all the 9 kingdoms is about two streets down towards the left.” With a wink, the woman disappeared back to her counter, leaving behind one of the best ideas Mick had heard.

If he were to woo Barry, take him to dinner with a carriage ride and all that romantic shit that Kissing Town was known for, maybe it would show him how serious he was about the three of them staying together, about the life he was willing to build for them.

Glancing back to make sure no one saw, he slipped out the door of the casino, already planning his evening.

0000000

            “Mirrors.” The Queen commanded. “Show me where the Dog Prince is.”

            The glass on one of them shimmered. There was a small farmhouse, surrounded by apple trees. The sign outside read, _“Merry Pip’s Apple Orchard—The Best Apples in the 9 Kingdoms_ ”. A grin stretched across her lips.

            “I know that place.” She whispered to herself. “Only a few miles from here, in the middle of the countryside.” It was perfect.

            She waved the image away. “Contact Damian Dahrk. Tell him that I wish to meet with him in the Merry Pip’s Apple Orchard to discuss a parlay.” She turned to another mirror. “You, mirror, show me my wolf. It’s time to put all of my ducks in a row.”

0000000

            Mick stayed out almost the entire night, planning an evening that would sweep Barry off his feet and convince him to stay in the Kingdoms. He’d considered buying the kid a present—something to prove his dedication to making them work—until he thought of something more meaningful. The silver ring that his grandma gave him before she died. On one side, it had the etching of a wolf; on the other, the crest of the Riding Hoods. He’d offered it to Lenny when he first told him they were mates, but Len had told him that he didn’t need material objects to know that he loved him.

            Maybe Barry would need it to show how serious he was. It was the only thing he had left from the 2nd Kingdom.

            “Mick…”

            Not again. Please, not now. He turned towards the window of one of the closed store fronts to see the Queen smirking back at him.

            He growled. “Go away. Leave me alone.”

            The Queen clicked her tongue. “Now, Mick. That is no way to treat your mistress.”

            “I am not yours!” He practically roared, lunging at the glass. The Queen didn’t even flinch though. Instead, a smile grew on her lips.

            “Mick, don’t fight me. Wouldn’t all of this have been so much easier if you’d just killed the boy and brought me the dog, as I asked?”

            “Leave me alone.” He repeated. “This is all going to work out, and none of us are going to see your ugly mug ever again.”

            The Queen tilted her head, like Mick was some poor, stupid animal that didn’t understand. “Oh, Mick. You really believe Leonard and your little boy will stay with you, don’t you?”

            _Don’t listen to her_! His mind practically screamed. “They stuck with me after I almost killed…” He shook his head. “I don’t answer to you. Stop…”

            “Confusing you?” The Queen asked. “Maybe you’re just thinking rationally. It’s only a matter of time before you’re abandoned, and then, you’ll realize that I am the one who _deserves_ your loyalty.”

            “No…” Mick argued, but the Queen just laughed.

            “This game is almost played, Mick. And you are part of my plans. You always have been.”

            With that, her image disappeared, and Mick was left staring into an empty glass, fearing what would happen the next time she appeared. A sense of foreboding filled his stomach. If they lost the mirror, and Barry found out he’d blown all of his money…

            He hoped that Snart and West were doing well.

0000000

            Things were going _very_ well.

            Iris never knew that her father was such a good card player, but he’d already won them close to 6,000 gold Queens. Now, he and a rich, elderly woman were the only two left at the card table, both rapt in the game.  Len and Barry both stood behind him—Len having already putting his winnings in the pot for her father. The two were standing closer than before, their shoulders brushing together every now and again. She knew that they’d had a private moment earlier on the balcony, and since, Barry blushed every time he glanced at Len.

            She would be getting that story out of him later.

            Mick sidled up between her and Barry, a guilty expression on his face, and Barry frowned. “Where have you been?” He whispered.

            Mick cleared his throat. “Taking a walk. How’s West doing?”

            “He has 6,000.” Iris answered. “But he’s worried it won’t be enough.” She flinched as her father pushed all of his chips into the pot. The elderly woman did the same. Iris bit her lip nervously. This was it. If they won, they’d have enough for the mirror.

            Her father laid his cards down. Then the woman.

            All of the air left the room. Her hand was higher.

            “Sorry about that.” The woman chuckled, pulling the chips towards herself. “Better luck next time.”

            Iris’ heart broke at the look on her father’s face. It was so broken and guilt-stricken, like he was repeating, “If I’d just stopped…” over and over in his head.

            “Well, I must say.” The woman continued, now talking to down to the floor. “You have been a good luck. Though, I’m sure you’d prefer a biscuit over half of this money—a deal is a deal.” She took half of the pot into her bag and sauntered off, leaving them all confused.

            Until Oliver hopped into her chair, Barry’s lucky gambling dog sign prominent on him.

            “Oh my god,” Iris glanced back at the clock. They’d been gambling all night. The auction house opened in ten minutes. “The mirror! Grab the money, we need to go!”

            They were cashed out quickly and the six ran as fast as they could to the auction house. They skidded to a stop when the path ahead was blocked by a mass of bystanders, hovering around something. With Len in the lead, they pushed their way through, only to pause when they saw the body of a dead elf in the road—the same on that was at the auction house.

            “Murdered for his money.” One of the bystanders whispered. “Poor thing…”

            Iris frowned. There was a bolt in the elf’s heart that seemed oddly familiar, but a push from her dad reminded her that they were on a schedule. They continued past the hoard of people and into the auction house, just in time to hear the auctioneer call out, “On the Magic Mirror, 500 going once. 500 going twice…”

            “5000!” Barry shouted as loud as he could. The room turned to stare at them, and the auctioneer’s jaw dropped.

            “Would anyone like the up the offer?” He called. “5000 once. 5000 twice…”

            “10,000.” The voice spiked a shiver through Iris’ body. There was no way…

            They all spun to see Slade Wilson standing in the doorway behind them, an eyepatch over one eye, and a scowl on his lips.

            “Sold! To the man with the eyepatch.”

            The Huntsman limped forward, shooting a smirk as he passed. Iris could only stare in shock as the auction workers carried off her family’s only way home to give to a man that wanted them dead.

0000000

            The Merry Pip’s Orchard was a small, quiet orchard, owned by a young couple and their small son. When the Queen entered their home, the entire family was sitting around the table with a muddy, but content prince sitting between them, gnawing on a plate full of bones. She closed the door behind her with a snap.

            The father’s jaw dropped. “This is just like a bedtime story!” He said in wonderment. “First, Prince Charming, now we have the Evi—”

            “Shut up.” His mouth closed with a click. She looked over the family fondly. The little boy was gangly for his age, with chestnut brown hair and a bright grin across his face, like he didn’t grasp what was happening. A strange twinge of longing struck her heart.

“You seem like a nice, happy family. What has the prince told you?”

The boy’s face lit up even more. “He’s told us all kinds of amazing things, like what it’s like to be a dog.”

She knelt down in front of him, lips pursed, and sighed. “Oh, that really was the wrong answer.”

The boy’s smile didn’t falter, but his parents’ expressions turned into ones of horror.

0000000

            Mick was nervous. No, that was an understatement. He was shaking in his new coat he’d bought just for his night with Barry. They were in a bar across the street from the casino—Iris, West, and the prince were all sitting at the bar, drinking whatever fruity drinks they sold in a place like Kissing Town. Iris was nursing her first, more stirring her straw in it than actually drinking. West was downing what looked like his fifth, while Prince Oliver was licking his second saucer of some pink colored drink. All of them looked completely devastated.

            That is, until they turned to see him. A knowing, amused grin grew on Iris’ lips, not unlike the one Len had given him when Mick bumped into him outside of the bar. West, however, was sending him a cold glare. Any other time, Mick could give a elf’s ass what West thought of him, but he was Barry’s foster father, and his opinion mattered to the kid. So, he straightened his coat and held his head up as he approached.

            “Afternoon.” He greeted.

Iris almost burst out laughing, but composed herself quickly. “Hey, Mick. Barry will be out in a minute. I think he’s splashing some water on his face.”

He nodded and took a seat beside her, motioning for the bartender to bring him a drink. He was going to need it.

“So,” Iris spoke up again. “Is Leonard going to be joining the two of you tonight?”

Mick smirked, but shook his head. “Not tonight. I offered, but Lenny says that he wanted to track down the Huntsman. He doesn’t trust him not to just murder us in whatever beds we all find ourselves sleeping in tonight.”

“Smart.” Iris agreed, sipping her drink.

Oliver barked a few times at West, and Mick could almost feel his ears burning. “What’s that mutt got to say about me now?”

West scoffed. “A lot nicer than what I’ve got to say, but let me ask you a frank question.” He leaned across his daughter, who barely rescued her drink from tipping over, and narrowed his eyes. “How honorable are your intentions towards my son tonight?”

Iris groaned. “Dad, not this…”

Mick had been expecting it from West, though. After all, his children were as precious to him as gold to a dragon. Of course, Mick never missed the chance to mess with the man. He gave a devilish grin. “You mean what’s going to happen if things go my way tonight?”

He’d never seen a more scandalized expression on the detective’s face. He rose to his feet, posture screaming intimidation, and practically burnt a hole into the wolf. “Now look here, Rory.” He growled in a way worthy of a wolf. “Barry has been hurt and abandoned by nearly everyone who he’s ever loved. Despite that, he has always picked himself up with a cheerful demeanor and carried on.

“I don’t like you or Snart, but Barry does, and he’s very sensitive. If you hurt him—”

“God, Joe.” Mick turned to see Barry walking in, his hair ruffled slightly, still wearing the same red sweater, but looking as delicious as ever. “After everything we’ve all been through, you think the shovel talk is really going to scare him or Len?”

Mick could tell that Barry was more annoyed with his foster father than he was letting on, but he let it slide in favor of standing up to slide an arm over Barry’s shoulder. “We won’t wait up!” Iris called as they walked out.

A blush tinted Barry’s cheeks, and Mick realized why Len nicknamed him ‘Scarlet’. _Wasn’t that shade adorable across his cheeks?_ He led the kid out to the street, his heart swelling at the awe-filled expression on Barry’s face.

The carriage he’d rented was perfect. It was covered with all sorts of flowers---he hadn’t been sure if Barry liked a specific type of flower, so he’d asked for every type of flower they had. The decision seemed to have paid off.

“Oh my god!” Barry exclaimed, his eyes lighting up. “Mick, this is amazing.”

Like the gentleman Mick’s grandma taught him to be, he opened the carriage door with a bow. Barry laughed nervously as he climbed inside, and Mick followed when he heard a surprised gasp. The chocolates were a great idea—they always worked on Lenny.

0000000

It disgusted the Queen to meet Damien Darhk on friendly terms. She wanted to rip out his heart with her hands and feed it to him, but the warlock’s magic was powerful. Much too powerful for an outright attack.

            She approached the center of the orchard where the white-haired assassin was waiting, leaned against one of the trees with a half-eaten apple in his hands. When he saw her, he sneered.

            “So, you actually decided to show up.” He dropped the apple and stepped towards her, his gait revealing his arrogance. “I’ll be honest, I thought that you might have changed your mind and scurried back off to whatever hole you’ve been hiding in these past weeks.”

            The Queen raised an eyebrow, refusing to reveal anything to the man. “Being that you’re here, I’m assuming you’ve agreed to the parlay.”

            Darhk laughed wickedly. “Why would I agree to your parlay? You are nothing—a has-been old witch still bitter over being overthrown by a seventeen-year-old boy.” He raised a hand, his fingers flickering with lightning. “No, I’ve come to get rid of you. With you gone, taking the 4th Kingdom with be a cinch.”

            If Darhk was expecting the Queen to react with fear, he didn’t get it. Instead, she tilted her head to the side and smiled. “Oh, Mr. Darhk. Are you not even curious about what my big plan is?”

            “Please.” Darhk rolled his eyes. “I guessed it a long time ago. You’ve captured Prince Oliver, and you’re going to use him as a tool to rule the 4th Kingdom.”

            Now, it was the Queen’s turn to laugh. “Do you really think I spent thirteen years in prison plotting to take only the 4th Kingdom? I intend to conquer them all.”

            The fear that Darhk had expected from the Queen was now reflected on his own face. A bubble of joy filled her.

            Dahrk swallowed hard. “Not if I get rid of you first.” His powers sparked between his fingers—only to fizzle out.

Amusement filled the Queen. Men could be so arrogant, especially when they have more power than intelligence. Dahrk raised his hand yet again, summoning dark powers to him.

            Before the warlock could strike, however, he let out a cough. Then another. He wrapped his hand around his throat, fighting against the poison the Queen knew had already entered his system. “You didn’t eat the apples, Damien, did you?” The warlock was on his knees now, gasping for breath. She loomed over him menacingly. “Had you not been so arrogant as to think you beat me, you would’ve considered that I arrived two hours before you to poison the orchard. Poisons have always been a talent of mine, and it seems I’ve timed this one just right.”

            Dahrk’s face was blue now, the last flickers of life in his eyes clinging on. She kicked him over onto the ground. “You could’ve been something, Damien. Pity.”

            The warlock plopped to the ground, dead. She laughed to herself, resisting the childish urge to dance around his body. Walking over to one of the trees, she picked up an axe she’d stolen from the house. One more thing to take care of.

0000000

Joe downed his eighth cocktail. Iris had wandered out the door nearly half an hour ago, saying that she was going to find Snart. Joe had just nodded. How were they supposed to get the mirror back from Slade? Even if they found it, they barely stopped him from killing Barry, Snart, and Rory last time they saw him. He sighed, turning his attention to Oliver, who was resting his head on the bar top, moaning.

_“I’m a failure.”_ The dog complained. _“This whole ordeal has been a test, and I’ve failed it miserably.”_

Joe scoffed. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. So, you got turned into a dog. That could’ve happened to anyone.”

The dog let out another moan, his tongue flicking out to lap up the last few drops of cocktail on his saucer. Joe felt for him—he’d never admit it, but the prince was starting to grow on him. Sure, he was spoiled and arrogant, but he genuinely wanted what was best for his people, not to mention the loyalty he’d shown since dragging them to the Kingdoms.

The door to the bar opened, and Joe looked up, thinking that it was Iris returning from her search. He jumped to his feet when Snart staggered in, holding his side, a mark on his face where someone’s fist had collided with it.

“What the hell happened?” Joe demanded, helping the criminal over to the bar. The bartender brought over a glass of water, and Snart took a few sips before answering.

“Slade found me before I found him.” He panted, taking another drink of water. “He caught me by surprise in an alley near the auction house, kicked the crap out of me, and then sent me back with a message.”

Joe’s eyes widened. “What message?”

Snart sighed. “He wants us to take the prince and tie him up in the town square. If we don’t, he’s going to smash the mirror and then kill us.”

“And what’s to stop him from doing that even if we do?”

“Not a damn thing.” Len replied, guzzling the rest of his water down.

_“We have to do it.”_ Joe glanced back at Oliver, who raised his head off the bar to stare at them. _“The mirror is your only way home. If Slade smashes it, who knows if there are any more left?”_

Joe translated to Snart, who frowned. “There’s still no assurance that Slade won’t just kill us all and smash the mirror. We need a plan to get the mirror away from Slade, preferably when he’s not around. Say, when he’s busy chasing Prince Oliver through the town?”

Joe nodded. “We tie Oliver in a loose knot, which he can escape from when Slade gets too close and run for it.”

“And you and I find where Slade is holed up, and take back the mirror.”

0000000

Barry wasn’t sure what he’d expected from his…was this a date? Whatever it was, Mick blew him away. The carriage stopped at a restaurant, which bragged to being the finest in the 9 Kingdoms, and the chef and owner himself led them inside, ushering them to a sweethearts table situated in the center of the room. Being in Kissing Town, the restaurant was decorated red, with heart shaped door arches and elaborate cupid fountains everywhere.

“Is there anyone else here?” Barry’d asked, glancing around.

Mick shook his head. “For the rest of the day, we have the whole place to ourselves.”

Barry smiled warmly back. The fact that Mick had gone through all of this trouble to cheer him up…no one had ever done that for him before.

They ate their way through four courses, each one tastier than the last, and Barry had to admit that the sign didn’t lie. Every so often, he’d catch Mick watching him, either smiling like Barry was the most wonderful thing he’d ever seen, or furrowing his brow worriedly, like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Barry reached across the table and rested his hand on Mick’s, giving what he hoped was a calming smile.

“I’m having a great time, Mick.” He assured the wolf. “It means so much that you did all of this for me. Thank you.”

Mick’s expression softened, and it was like there was a string pulling Barry forward. He leaned across the table, Mick following his lead, and they met halfway across. The moment their lips touched, Barry felt his entire body light up with magic. It was almost exactly the way he’d felt kissing Len on the balcony, like a spark of magic spreading through his limbs. He wasn’t completely sure if it was the town, or if it was just fate pushing them together, but either way, Barry sunk into it, his fingers tightening around Mick’s hand.

            When he finally pulled away, he was proud to see that Mick seemed just as affected by the kiss as he was. “Damn…” the wolf whispered, his eyes closed like he was playing the kiss over in his head again.

            Barry settled back into his seat, knowing that his cheeks were flaring red. He bit his lip embarrassedly as Mick looked him over lustfully. He cleared his throat.

            “So,” He averted his eyes and willed his blush down. “This whole… _everything_ …was amazing. The dinner, the carriage…” He sighed happily. “This is one of the best things anyone has ever done for me.”

            “Anything for you, Doll.” The wolf replied. “I know that you have seen a lot of ugly parts of the Kingdoms, but there’re some beautiful parts of them, too.” His smile was so open and light, it made Barry’s heart skip. His other hand reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, silver ring. “I’d like for you to see them all, if you’d stay with Lenny and me.”

0000000

            Joe was the one who dragged Oliver into the center of the square with a rope, the prince ‘fighting’ him every step of the way.

            _“He’ll want to be able to see you leaving me.”_ Oliver said as Joe tied a loose knot onto a hitching rail.

            “Snart says he’s probably there.” Joe whispered, nodding towards the building behind him. It was a clock tower; the tallest building in the town. Oliver, reluctantly, had to agree with Snart. It was the perfect look out place.

            _“Go with Snart; find the mirror.”_ He ordered, holding his doggy head high. _“I’ll be fine—I’ll lose him in the crowd.”_

            Joe nodded, though he didn’t seem too keen on leaving Oliver. It warmed his heart—besides Thea and Walter, it’d been a long time since he’d felt like he had a family that loved and cared about him. Barry, Joe, and Iris—and, though he’d never admit it, Snart and Rory—had filled that void in him that the Queen left behind thirteen years ago. If he needed to get chased by a psychotic huntsman to give them a chance to get home, that’s what he’d do.

            The prince barked, making Joe hurry away before Slade looked down at them. He continued barking and pretending to pull on the rope. From the crowd, a familiar, one-eyed face appeared. Oliver counted to ten, giving Slade enough time to get within a couple of yards of him, before taking off in the opposite direction. The knot came loose, Slade cursed, and Oliver was running into a crowd of wedding goers emptying out of one of the cathedrals.

            Suddenly, people started rushing to the streets, cheering and shouting in joy. “Here’s here!” They were calling. A carriage clattered down the street, and a face Oliver knew all too well was hanging from the window, arm extended. Gripped in the hand was a disembodied head that he recognized as Damian Dahrk.

            “Prince Oliver has returned! He’s saved the Kingdom!”

            “The coronation is back on!”

            _“No.”_ Oliver said to no one. _“No, I AM PRINCE OLIVER!”_

0000000

            Barry stared at Mick, dumbfounded. Was he asking what he thought he was asking? Mick cleared his throat, but didn’t pull his hand away.

            “Wolves mate for life, Barry. Lenny and I made an oath when we were young, and I tried to give him this ring. It was given to my grandma by her husband on the day they got married. She gave it to me on the last day I saw her, and told me that one day I would give it to someone that made my life complete. I always thought that person was Len. Now, I think that you’re here to complete us both.” 

            Barry felt tears welling up in his eyes. The look that Mick was giving him, not just heated or lustful, but honest and open and full of love. “Mick…” He gasped. “This…this whole day has been amazing. The flowers, the carriage, the food, the private dinner…I don’t know even know how we’re going to pay for all of this without just running for it—”

            Mick chuckled. “Don’t worry, Doll. Everything’s been paid for.”

            Barry could see the moment Mick realized what he said. The wolf’s eyes widened, like he knew he said something wrong. He moved to pull his hand away, but Barry quickly grabbed it.

            “What do you mean it’s already paid for?” Barry frowned. “How did you get the money for all this?” A flash of panic crossed Mick’s face, and he pulled his hand away. Now, Barry knew he needed to know. “Mick, where did you get the money?”

            The wolf’s eyes fell to his plate, running his finger along the bottom. He shrugged. “I, uh, may have won some money.”

            Barry was confused. When had Mick had the time to win money? “When?”

            Mick hummed, still refusing to look Barry in the eye.

            “Mick, when did you win the money?” Barry demanded. He didn’t mean to come across as harsh as he did, but the guilty expression Mick was pointing at the table told him it was bad.

            Mick pushed his plate away, but didn’t raise his head. “Last night, when you and Snart were playing poker. I won the Jackrabbit Jackpot. 10,000 Queens.”

            It was worse than Barry thought. Mick had won the money they could’ve used to buy the mirror with. “Why?” He asked, a twinge of anger in his tone. He didn’t understand. “Why spend the money on all of this instead of helping us get the mirror back?”

            “Because you were going to leave!” Mick raised his head, a storm of emotions on his face—passion, desperation, some bit of anger perhaps. “I heard you and Len talking about it, and I wanted us to stay here, the three of us. I knew that if I could convince you to stay with me, Lenny would stay too.”

            Now, Barry could feel hurt and rage bleeding through. “So, none of this was about me.” He stated, rising to his feet. Mick furrowed his brow in confusion. “All of this was about _you_! You didn’t even _ask_ what I wanted! You thought you could manipulate me into staying here so that Len wouldn’t leave you. You thought that you could bribe me with food and carriage rides and music, and that…what, I would be too stupid to wonder where it all came from?”

            Mick jumped to his feet. “It wasn’t like that, Doll. I swear. I did this because I love Len, and I love you—”

            “No,” Barry growled, “you don’t! If you actually loved me, you would have helped us get the mirror, and then asked me what I wanted to do, instead of backing me into a corner! That’s not love—that’s possession!”

            He could feel tears running down his face, but he would be damned if he broke down before giving Mick a piece of his mind. “You are just like Joe, and my dad, and everyone else in my life that thinks that they’re doing what’s best for me by running my life for me, without asking what I want. Well, you know what I want now? I want you to go away and leave me alone! I never want to see you again.”

            He hadn’t meant that last part—he’d said it out of anger and meanness, but he knew it was too late to take it back. Mick snatched the silver ring off the table. “Fine. Good riddance.” He scoffed, turning to leave. “I’m better off alone anyway.”

            Barry wanted to go after Mick, wanted to stop him from leaving, but he was wrung out and emotional, and all he felt like doing was collapsing on the floor and crying.

0000000

            Iris wandered around Kissing Town for hours searching for Len. Eventually, she just found herself walking the streets in an attempt to clear her head. It hadn’t worked. Instead, her mind continued to wander back to home—her journalism classes, her job at Jitter’s, her room…

            She missed it all so much. True, living in fairy tale land for the last few weeks, but she wanted to go home.

            Soon, she decided to sit on a bench beside the clock tower in the square, her arms resting on her knees, and her head in her hands. She raised her head to see Barry walking back to the town square alone, head hanging low. He glanced up when he spotted her waiting, and she could see the tracks of tears down his cheeks. She jumped to her feet and rushed to her brother’s side. The minute her arms wrapped around him, Barry collapsed into her. 

            He sobbed into her shoulder as she led him back to where she’d been resting. “What happened?” she asked, stroking his hair gently, the same way her dad did when she or Barry had nightmares as children.

            “Mick…” He managed to gasp. “Mick left. We…we had a fight, and he j…just left. He’s gone.”

            Iris’ hand stopped for a second. “Oh, Bare.” She whispered, hugging him tighter. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

            “We’ve lost the mirror…a…and we lost Mick. A…at least things can’t get much worse.” Barry sniffled, raising his head from her shoulder.

            Suddenly, something flew down off the roof above them. Both gave a shout as it crashed to their feet, shattering into a million pieces. It took Iris a minute to realize what she was looking at.

            “Barry, the mirror.” She gaped at the shattered remains of both glass and frame scattered over the cobblestone street. “It’s the mirror.”

            They both stood up and backed up to see where it fell from…only to see Joe and Len crouched on the roof, staring down in horror at him.

0000000

Mick twisted the silver ring between his fingers. He sat, alone, at the edge of the river outside of Kissing Town, staring angrily into the water. He hated the ring. It represented everything he wanted—Len, Barry, his happy ever after—that was now gone. He roared, throwing the ring into the river. He didn’t want it anymore. Len was right—happy ever after was dead.

            “Mick.” A familiar voice cut through his brooding. His eyes fell to the water, where the Queen’s reflection was watching him sadly. “I told you that I was the only one you could rely on. Now will you return to me?”

            He hesitated, his thoughts flickering to Len’s hatred of the Queen, to the Huntsman almost killing Barry. He couldn’t stop loving them. It wasn’t how being a wolf worked. But sometimes, love could warp into something ugly. And that was what he knew the Queen was depending on.

            He bowed his head. “Yes, my Queen.”

0000000

             

           

            _“They don’t look happy with you right now.”_

Joe glared at the dog beside him as he and Snart knelt down to collect the broken pieces of mirror. They shouldn’t have been on the roof. Joe knew that. But, honestly, it wasn’t like there had been much of a choice.

            He and Snart snuck up into the clock tower the minute slipped out to get Oliver. They ran up the five staircases to the top, until they reached an open trapdoor with a ladder. Joe moved to climb it, but Snart grabbed his shoulder.

            “He just leaves the trapdoor open?” The criminal asked with a raised eyebrow. Joe frowned. Right. He probably set a trap.

            Why on earth did he leave his gun in Central?

            “I’ll go up first,” Snart offered. “And tell you if I see anything suspicious.”

            Really, they’d done all they could. Snart checked and didn’t see any traps, called Joe up, and they searched for the mirror. Once they found it, Joe made the mistake of getting overly eager. Without thinking, he grabbed the mirror.

            “Joe, no!” But Snart’s shout came too late. The second Joe pulled on the mirror, the trapdoor behind them shut with a _click_.  

            Neither of them needed to check, but both pulled at the door anyway, to no avail. It was Snart’s idea to carry it out the window— “Do you _want_ to get caught, West?”—and onto the roof. They crawled, the mirror held between them, from the rooftop of the clock tower onto the neighboring rooftop. They were crawling down towards an open window when Joe’s foot caught a loose shingle. The mirror slipped from his fingers, and suddenly, Snart was holding all of the mirror’s weight with one hand.

            That’s when the shingle he was gripping gave out. Joe barely had enough time to grab Snart’s arms to stop him from falling off, but the mirror wasn’t so lucky. It jarred from Snart’s grip and went flying down onto the street.

            Well. Things happen that can’t be changed.

Barry was still frozen, staring down at the pieces like he couldn’t believe what’d happened, and Iris was fuming, her arm wrapped around Barry’s shoulders being the only thing holding her back from making a scene.

            _“Joe, I’m scared.”_ Oliver said suddenly.

            Joe frowned. He’d never heard the dog admit to something like that so openly.

            _“I think…I think I might be losing my mind. I feel…I feel like a dog.”_

He could not deal with this right now. “Just…just focus on something else, alright? I’m sure it’s nothing. And try not to cut your paws on the glass.”

            Snart hadn’t said a word since the mirror crashed. Whether it was guilt for being the one that dropped it, or the obvious disappearance of Mick Rory, Joe wasn’t sure. But the criminal’s face remained solemn as he stashed glass into his bag.

            “There they are!” People started gathering in the street, coming at them from all sides with pointed fingers and accusatory tones. “It’s the mirror breakers!”

            An elderly woman stepped forward. “Get out of town!” She demanded. “We don’t want your bad luck here!”

            “Gee, I wonder what it’d be like to have _bad_ luck.” He heard Iris grumble. He held his hands up in surrender.

            “Sorry about this, folks. We’ll get out of your hair once we get all the pieces. But you don’t really believe in that superstition, do you?”

            As if answering, the sound of approaching hoofs echoed around them, followed by a shingle from the roof they’d dropped the mirror from shooting right off, straight into Snart’s head.

            “Son of a bitch!” He howled, covering the spot the shingle hit with his hand.

            That’s when the townspeople became more of a mob. Iris temporarily let go of her anger to help them grab as many pieces as possible, and Len grabbed Barry by the arm to pull him along with them. Joe paused only a minute to glance back at all the pieces they had to leave behind. There was no way they were going to be able to fix the mirror now.

0000000

            To say that Barry was angry would’ve been an understatement. Furious was more like it. Absolutely livid, definitely. They’d found an empty barn on the outskirts of Kissing Town to squat in and look over the pieces they had been able to collect, but none of them were in any state to really focus on trying to sort them out.

            His fight with Mick was like a fresh burn—raw and painful. So maybe he was taking out a bit of his bad mood on Joe and Len for breaking the mirror, but he was allowed to be angry.

Even Iris was angry, if the glare she had fixed on the two of them was any indication. The difference between Barry mad and Iris mad? Barry bottled his anger and let it simmer. Iris didn’t.

            “I just don’t understand how you two could be so STUPID!” She exclaimed, clenching her fists. “This was our way home, and now it’s broken. What were you even doing on the roof?” 

            Joe had his head resting in his hands, and Len was sitting slightly away from all of them, brooding. He hadn’t even asked where Mick was, though Barry supposed he knew the wolf well enough to guess that something had gone down.

Instead of joining the conversation, Barry knelt down and started examining the pieces while Iris ranted a bit. He knew that, after some shouting and angry words, she’d calm down and forgive Joe and Len. He wasn’t sure if he felt forgiving at the moment.

            He wanted to go home. That’s it. He was done watching the people he cared about almost be murdered, he was done with the pain that came with the exposure to this world. He cast a glance at Len before shaking his head. Too much pain.

            He was flipping a piece around in his hand when he noticed something odd. There was writing on the back of the mirror. Without a word, he began flipping over all the pieces, fitting them together like a puzzle.

            “What are you doing?” He heard Len ask, but he ignored him in favor of finishing his puzzle. When the final piece was in place, he rose to his feet and stepped back.

            “It’s a manufacturer’s label.” He realized with a grin. 

            _MANUFACTURED BY THE DWARVES OF DRAGON MOUNTAIN_

Dragon Mountain. The dwarves had to have made more than one mirror. If they did, they might be able to help them get home. A groan from Len sidelined his optimism. He rolled his eyes.

“What is it?”

Len raised an eyebrow at his tone. “Dwarves are annoying creatures, is all.” He explained. “They hoard their secrets like dragons with gold, and they’re stubborn. If you think that they’ll just let you use a mirror, you’re mistaken.”

             “Well, do you have any better ideas?” He snapped. Len flinched, surprised by his tone, but Barry could care less right then. “If you don’t want to go, fine. Stay here.” He rose to his feet and grabbed his bag, swinging it angrily over his shoulder. “I’m going to find another mirror so that I can go home and leave this nightmare behind me.”

            Oliver jumped to his feet and followed Barry out of the barn happily, his tail wagging enthusiastically behind him. “Do you even know where you’re going?” Len shouted after him.

            “No, but Oliver does.” Barry shouted back, not even sure if what he said was true. All he knew was that he was furious. He didn’t care. The moment he started caring, the more it would hurt, and he couldn’t handle that. He would walk all the way to Dragon Mountain alone if he had to. He heard footsteps running out of the barn to catch up with him, and he didn’t have to turn to see that Iris was beside him, having his back like always.

            Of course, he knew Joe wouldn’t let the two of them go off on their own, which was proven when he heard more footsteps behind him. He didn’t want to glance back to see if Len had come out with him, no matter how badly he wanted to know.

            _“Snart came out with Joe.”_ Oliver informed him, almost as if he was reading his mind. _“He looks sad, and he keeps alternating between staring at you and staring at his feet.”_

Barry gave the dog a nod and leaned down to scratch his ear. _“Awwww, yeah…that’s heaven.”_ The dog practically moaned, and Barry let out a small laugh.

            “Before we go, we should get some food and supplies.” Iris said, catching up with the two of them.

            _“That’s a good idea. Dragon Mountain is a long way from here.”_

Barry nodded. He glanced around them, his eyes falling on an old farmhouse about a quarter of a mile away. “Let’s stop there. There’s smoke coming out of the chimney.”

0000000

He was hanging over a fire. With all he’d been through since he’d been trapped in Rivertown, he wasn’t exactly shocked. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been cursed—his mind slipped in and out of consciousness constantly, so days could’ve been weeks. All he knew was that he was locked in what felt like a frozen Hell. Or, more accurately, a golden one.

            He was going to _kill_ Barry Allen and his family for this.

            As it was now, the two fairy-sniffing farmers that purchased him were attempting to melt him for the gold. Hopefully, if they kept it up long enough…

            “This isn’t real gold!” One of them exclaimed. “I told you it was a cheap imitation.”

            The fire was really starting to burn his feet. _Wait,_ he thought. _If I can suddenly feel, then maybe—_

Before he could finish his thought, though, magic exploded in the farmhouse. The gold melted off of his skin, freeing him finally from his prison. He cut himself free and landed on the floor with all the gracefulness of an assassin. The two farmers, now trembling in the corner, gasped.

            “You…you’re Malcolm Merlyn.”

            Malcolm smirked. “Yes, unfortunately for you.” He raised his sword, ready to rid the world of the two men’s miserable existences, when there was a knock on the door.

            “Hello?” He heard a familiar voice call out. No. There was no way he was this lucky. “Hello? Is there anyone in there?”

            He stumbled towards the door, his feet numb from standing in one position for as long as he had.

            “I don’t think there’s anyone in there, Bare.” A female voice replied.

            “No, I hear someone moving.”

            Raising his sword, he threw open the door, hoping to catch them by surprise. From the looks on their faces, he succeeded. Barry Allen and his sister both stared at him, eyes wide in fear, while Oliver barked at their feet.

            Barry was the first to snap out of it.

            “Holy shit!” He screamed, trying to move from the door, but Malcolm grabbed him by the sleeve of his shirt. A few yards behind them, Barry’s foster father was running at them with Leonard Snart on his heels, but they wouldn’t be able to get to them in time. At the very least, he could get his revenge on the brat that ruined _EVERYTHING_ for him.

            Then, his arm seized up. Standing in the same position, gold or not, for as long as he had must have done more damage than he’d thought. Taking a chance, Oliver lunged forward and bit into the assassin king’s leg. Barry used the distraction to break free and grab the girl, pulling her away from the farmhouse while shouting at the others to run away.

            Malcolm cursed himself. He’d had them in his hands, and AGAIN, he let them slip away. He watched them from the doorway of the house. They were heading east, towards the mountains. They could’ve been heading for Oliver’s castle, but he was willing to bet there was more to it than that. He’d find out.

            After all, they were easy enough to track.

0000000

            The carriage shook as it made its way up the cobblestone way to the castle. The Dog Prince, who already put away Damien Dahrk’s head and was now hanging out the window, titled his head.

            “This isn’t the same place.”

            The Queen grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him back into his seat. Idiot. “No. We aren’t going back there. This is your new home.” She pulled her emerald hood over her head, far enough down to cover her face.

            “Ollie!” The door to the carriage was thrown open. The Dog Prince stepped out, with all the poise and pride the Queen had forced into him, only to be nearly tackled to the ground. “Where the hell have you been?”

            Thea Queen buried her face into who-she-thought-was-her-brother’s neck. When she pulled away, there were tear tracks on her cheeks. “You’ve been missing for over a month! The Coronation is in less than a week! I thought the Queen took you.”

            The Dog Prince glanced back swiftly at the Queen, before clearing his throat. “I’m fine, Speedy. I’ll tell you everything, but first, I want to go to my room and sleep.”

            Thea sniffled, but smiled. “Of course. Do you want me to have anything sent up to your room?”

            “Bones.” He answered without thinking. “Juicy, marrow bones.”

            Thea’s smile faltered. “Bones? Alright, Ollie. Whatever crazy food kick you’re on.” When she took him by the hand and led him into the castle—his castle, Snow White’s castle—the Queen’s dark smile grew. Everything according to plan.

0000000

            When Henry Allen was studying to be a doctor, he travelled to Switzerland with his medical school. Barry remembered all of his stories about the beautiful, snowcapped Alps, and how nothing compared to them in all of the world— “Except, of course, you and your mother.”.

            Now, looking on Dragon Mountain, Barry understood what he felt. The mountain was majestic. It wasn’t snowcapped, but there were fields of flowers decorating the foot of it, and the summit reached all the way into the clouds. He would’ve lingered and appreciated the mountain more if he weren’t about to climb it.

            He and Oliver led the way up the mountain, with Joe and Iris behind them, and Len taking the rear. The criminal had been distant since Kissing Town, which honestly suited Barry just fine. To say he was furious was an understatement. Len and Joe _broke the mirror._ Their way home.

            The worse part was Barry didn’t even know if Len had done it on purpose. After all, Mick had sabotaged his chances at going home. Why not Len, too? How could he trust them again?

            The mountain grew steeper as they travelled on, the path growing more narrow and uphill until, at one point, they were practically vertical and climbing up the side of the mountain. Iris was taking the lead now, then Joe with Oliver thrown over his shoulder, and Barry was beside Len, who he was trying very hard to ignore. From the cold look on his face, Len was trying to do the same.

            He probably blamed Barry for Mick running off. Well, screw him. He broke the mirror, so that made them even.

            About the time they were halfway to where the path evened out, there was the sound of hooves galloping.

            “Oh, no.” Len sighed, preparing for the worst. He hadn’t been ready for the rocks he’d been using as handholds to pop out of the cliff face, though. Without thinking, Barry reached out quickly and grabbed him by the collar, dragging him back onto the path and practically throwing him against the wall.

            The criminal was frozen in shock for a few seconds, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. “This bad luck is going to kill me.” Len gasped, panicky. Barry raised an eyebrow. He’d never seen Len so freaked. He resisted the urge to reach out in comfort—he was still mad, and he just couldn’t bring himself to be comforting. 

            “Yeah, we’re all feeling that luck today.” He grumbled, moving the rest of the way silently.

0000000

            They climbed higher and higher, until the path eventually evened out and Joe could finally put Oliver on the ground. Barry caught up with them, though Joe could tell it was only to get away from Snart and to walk closer to Oliver. Iris was quiet, though her anger had simmered down since the barn, and she walked side-by-side with Snart.

Barry, however, was still fuming. Joe could practically feel the rage rolling off his son. He wouldn’t look at him or Snart. The only person he’d really talked to since they started climbing the mountain was Oliver, though every so often he heard Barry mumble something under his breath.

            “You know what?” Joe said after about an hour of cold shouldered silence. “If you have something to say, Bare, then say it. Anything’s better than this sulking crap you’ve been pulling.”

            For the first time in days, Barry turned to face his foster father. There was a fury in his eyes that Joe had never seen before, but he knew his son needed to let out. “I’m not sulking.” He scoffed, moving to walk away.

            Joe grabbed his arm to stop him. “You can’t keep everything bottled up forever. Let it out.”

            A tenseness filled Barry shoulders, and Joe ignored the ‘oh, no’ from Iris.

            “You really want to know what’s bothering me, Joe?” Barry rounded on his father, his eyes now blazing. “How could you two be so _stupid?_ What were you even doing on that roof, with the mirror, OUR ONLY WAY HOME?”

            Joe sighed. “Look, I know that you and Iris are both upset about that—I am, too—but the mirror is gone. If I could change it, I would—”

            But Barry wasn’t done. “You have spent almost my entire life sheltering me, telling me what I can and can’t do, making my decisions for me. And then, you go and do one of the STUPIDEST things I have ever seen!”

            “I have been a parent to you.” Joe argued. “I’m sorry it may not have lived up to your high expectations left from your father dumping you on my front step and your mother….” He took a deep breath. He’d almost said something he shouldn’t. “But that’s life, Bare.”

            Joe knew he’d probably crossed a line dragging Henry Allen into this. Barry’s fists clenched. “I really hate you sometimes, you know that?”

            He snorted. “If it makes you feel better, have a good, long hate. I raised you through your teen years; you think I’m not used to it?”

            Barry scoffed. “Oh, trust me, I remember my teen years.” He shouted, turning to continue their trek. “Like when you ran off my date the night of prom, and Iris had to cancel her date so I wouldn’t have to go alone? All because you thought he looked like a trouble maker.”

            “He was!”

Barry spun to face him again. “That wasn’t your decision! I am tired of everyone taking my decisions from me! You, my dad, Mi—” He stopped, and suddenly, the rage was replaced by hurt and heartbreak, and it all made sense.

“Barry, you can’t blame yourself for whatever happened with Rory.” He assured, stepping forward, but Barry walked away silently, clearly kicking himself for saying too much. Joe knew better than to push anymore.

They continued up the mountain, Oliver running ahead through the grass every so often to bring back a stick to Barry for him to throw. Joe was worried. What would happen if the dog took over the prince? Would Oliver cease to exist? Would he ever be able to change back?

Night started to fall when they found their first sign of anything on the mountain, which turned out to be what looked like the gravesite of a battle. There were stone stacks with helmets on top, some marked with names, others left blank.

“What happened here, Oliver?” Barry asked, taking it all in with a mix of awe and nervousness.

_“I…I don’t really remember.”_ Oliver answered. His voice sounded scared. _“Honestly, there’s a lot I’m not remembering. I can’t remember my last name, my parents’ names, if I have any siblings, any events outside of the last maybe five years. I can’t even remember if there are still dragons around.”_

            “Snart.” The criminal glanced over at Joe, eyebrow raised. “Dragons—still a thing?”

            “Been extinct for nearly two hundred years.” Snart answered with a tight smile. “Don’t worry your pretty, little heads.”

            Joe took the little comfort.

0000000

            Len couldn’t help but watch Barry. They were in a small cave Iris had found for them in the side of the mountain, sitting around a fire that Joe built. The detective in question was asleep in the corner with Iris in his arms. It seemed the younger West had forgiven her father.

            Barry, on the other hand, was on the other side of the cave, staring into the fire with Oliver curled against his side. A wolf howled someone across the mountain, and Barry’s head snapped up. His expression quickly melted into one of disappointment.

            “You can’t blame yourself for Mick.” Len broke the silence. Barry sighed, his eyes returning to the fire.

            “You wouldn’t say that if you knew what happened.”

            Len shook his head and rose to his feet. Barry didn’t even acknowledge him taking a seat beside him. “Look, Scarlet. I may not know what went down between you two, but I do know Mick. I know that he does things rashly, and he sometimes he leaves for a long time, but he always comes back.”

            “Not this time.” A tear dripped down his cheek. “I told him to go away; that I never wanted to see him again. It wasn’t true—I was just so angry at him. I didn’t think he’d actually go.”

            Len resisted the urge to laugh. He didn’t know what went down on that date to set Barry off, but he knew that it was hardly the worst thing Mick ever had yelled at him. He hesitantly put an arm around Barry’s back. “I once told Mick that I wished he’d burnt with his family, and that I’d never met him.”

            Barry tensed, raising shocked eyes to Len’s. “What?”

            Len nodded. “He disappeared for a year and a half. I wallowed around the entire time, thinking I’d lost the man I loved. Mick has a way of getting under your skin sometimes. But he always comes back.”

            _Unless the Queen finds him first._ A voice said in his head. _They betrayed her by helping Barry…she could kill him._

Barry was smiling at him now, though, and he could see a small bit of the anger in his heart dimming. When he leaned into Len’s side, the criminal’s heart steadied. Mick was going to be fine. They were going to be fine.

0000000

            Barry woke up the next morning to a weight against his back, and the feeling of someone staring at him. When he opened his eyes, it took him a few seconds to understand why. There was an arm wrapped his waist—Len’s arm; he was curled behind him, resting with his face nestled against the back of Barry’s neck—and Oliver was standing in front of him, a bone the same size as the dog in his mouth, and a gleeful gleam in his eye.

            _“Big bone…”_ He practically vibrated with joy. _“BIG bone…”_

Barry nodded, sitting up enough that Len moaned unhappily. “Yeah, that is a big bone. It’s the size of a dinosaur’s bone—where’d you get it?”

            _“Dragon.”_ The dog answered, dropping the bone in front of him. _“Come with me.”_

Barry climbed to his feet, successfully waking up Len with a shout, which woke Joe and Iris.

            “Was goin on?” Iris murmured, wiping the sleep from her eyes.

            Barry pulled on his pack. “It’s Oliver. He says he found something.”

           

            Turns out, what Oliver found was a giant, skeletal dragon’s head sticking out of the side of the mountain with a tunnel behind it, which in turn led to a metal chute.

            “The 9th Kingdom is completely underground.” Len explained. “Dwarves hide the doorways to their kingdoms.” They’re greedy with their secrets, and think everyone is out to get them.”

            Barry bit his lip. The bottom of the chute was pitch black, but it had to be safe for the dwarves, right? If that was where they were, then that’s where the mirror would be. Without another word, he climbed onto the chute, Oliver sliding in front of him.

            “Bare, are you sure about this?” Joe asked. “We can find another way.”

            Before Joe could talk him out of it, Barry pushed himself and Oliver off. It was like a slide at a waterpark—winding, dipping, and rising through the mountain. There was no light in either direction, so Barry clutched Oliver’s fur for comfort.

            Finally, they slid to a stop at the opening of a lit cave. Oliver jumped off, but before Barry could follow, Iris came down the chute, colliding with him and knocking him free.

            “You couldn’t have waited, like ten seconds?” Barry grumbled, untangling himself from his sister. Iris just laughed and brushed herself off.

            Next to come down was Joe, who seemed really displeased for a man that just slid down the coolest slide ever. The sound of hoofsteps suddenly filled the cave.

“Oh, no.” Barry groaned, and down came Len, only to knock his arm against the wall surrounding the tunnel, followed by his head against the sign above it. Well, it could’ve been worse.

The tunnel in front of them was short, and when they exited, it was into a vast cavern chamber twice the size of the CCPD’s precinct, lit up with hundreds of lanterns. In the center, near a thousand dwarves were gathered around an oblong mirror twice as long as Barry was tall.

“It’s been many centuries since a truth mirror has been successfully created.” The dwarf standing beside the glass announced. “Behold, Prince Oliver’s coronation gift!”

The crowd roared, shaking the walls around them. Unfortunately, the sound knocked a dull stalactite loose.

“SON OF A BITCH!” Len howled as it dropped directly onto his head. The dwarves all turned, anger and hate in their eyes, and Barry found himself wondering if going to Dragon Mountain had been such a good idea after all.

0000000

“Do you know what the punishment is for entering our sacred kingdom?”

They were all kneeling in front of the leader of the dwarves, who was staring them down—more figuratively than anything—with malice. Iris decided to be the one to speak up. “We are so sorry; we didn’t know we were trespassing.”

“That’s no excuse!” She flinched away when the dwarf lunged at her. “The punishment for such a crime is to be thrown into the deepest, darkest mineshaft to rot.”

            “We don’t want any trouble.” Barry interrupted quickly. “We actually need your help. There was this mirror, and it broke—”

“THAT WAS YOU?!?” The dwarf stomped over to grab Barry by the collar. The moment he touched him, Len practically threw himself at the dwarf. Iris could tell the only thing keeping him from pummeling the dwarf were the other five dwarves holding him back.

“Leave him alone! I broke it.”

Shockingly, this didn’t quell the dwarf’s anger. “Do you realize what you’ve done? You have broken one of the Great Travelling Mirrors! It is irreplaceable!”

Iris caught it before the others. “Wait, one of? Meaning there are others?”

“You wish to break the others?!”

“No.” Iris shook her head frantically. “We need to find one, though, to get home. Please.”

The dwarf snorted. “The only thing you will find here is death.” He snapped his fingers, and a swarm of dwarves came over them, dragging them to their feet and towards, Iris was assuming, their deaths.

Then, a voice cut over the shouts. “Sir, look!”

They all turned to see Oliver standing in front of the truth mirror. Reflected back, though, wasn’t a golden retriever—instead it was an extremely attractive man with bright blues eyes and short-cut blonde hair. The real Prince Oliver Queen.

“It’s Prince Oliver!” One of the dwarves said. “Grandson of the greatest woman who ever lived!”

Iris nodded along in agreement. “Yes, it is. And we are his loyal protectors on a top secret mission to turn him back human.”

A rumble of awe erupted over the dwarves, and they were all released.

“Long has it been told,” the main dwarf said, “that a great prince would stand before us on all fours. I just didn’t picture it this way.”

0000000

The Librarian was a fussy little dwarf. He scurried through the Library of Mirrors, with Len and Barry leading the way behind him, tuttering about mirror this and that. Len tuned him out the moment he opened his mouth.

“None of you are suffering from bad luck, are you?” He called over his shoulder as they moved through a small maze of mirrors. Len swallowed hard, imagining all of them breaking around him, and shook his head.

The Librarian nodded. “Well, our records don’t go back as far as travelling mirrors, so we’ll have to raise Gustav to see what he knows.”

Len raised an eyebrow. Knowing dwarves, Gustav wasn’t going to be some joyful helper.

Turns out, Gustav wasn’t a person at all. The Librarian stopped in front of an old, dirty mirror with murky glass.

“Just a warning. All old mirrors speak in verse and rhyme, and he’s a bit deaf, so you’ll have to speak up.”

Barry nodded. “Hello, Gustav!” He shouted. A voice hummed out of the glass. “We’re here about travelling mirrors that were made, to…help us on our escap…ade?”

He flinched at his own rhyme.

The mirror hummed. _“Five mirrors made, two long gone.”_ It croaked, its voice scratchy from years of disuse. _“A price was paid, an evil won.”_

“What about the others?” Len asked. The mirror stayed silent, and he sighed. “Our mirror smashed, what do we do? Where the hell are the other two?” Behind them, Iris snorted.

_“One mirror, violently smashed apart, by a criminal known as Snart.”_

Len rolled his eyes.

_“Mirror two is on a bed, with barnacles upon its head.”_

Barry frowned. “One’s in the ocean?”

The Librarian nodded. “One fell into the Great North Sea some time ago. I think you can safely discount that one.”

They all hummed in agreement. Gustav continued. _“What_ you _seek has not been seen, since it was taken by the Queen.”_

Len’s heart stopped. He hoped—prayed, _begged—_ that he’d heard wrong, but Barry shared a look with his family. “The Queen has the mirror?”

Joe scoffed. “That’s all we need.”

Len couldn’t find it in himself to disagree with Joe. As far as he knew, Barry and the others had been kept off the Queen’s radar, apart from their run-ins with her flunkies. To purposely put them in her sights…it made Len sick.

“Very helpful you have…b _ee_ n.” Joe called to the glass. “Can you tell us where to find the Queen?”

_“Near she is, and not alone. In a place that’s not her home. In a palace out of sight, where once the queen was called Snow White.”_

Prince Oliver’s castle. Perfect. Len stepped back, needing to get away from Gustav and his blasted rhymes. He stepped back too far, though, and his foot caught the edge of one of the mirrors set up behind them. He could only watch helplessly as it fell, crashing into the one behind it, which fell into the next one, and so on, until every mirror in the room was smashed on the floor.

The echoes of breaking glass reverberated throughout the cave long after the last mirror crashed to the floor. The Librarian’s face twisted from shock to sorrow to pure hatred.

“Murderers! You murdered my mirrors!” Guards started to pile into the room, and Len lunged forward to grab Barry by the hand. They’d overstayed their welcome. “Kill them! Kill them!”

Before the guards could react, they bolted away. There was a small tunnel off the edge of the cave, and Len dragged Barry towards it; Joe, Iris, and Oliver hot on their heels. There was another chute, but no one argued it this time. They piled on as quickly as they could and slide down, away from the screams of the dwarves.

            The chute let off in what appeared to be an abandoned section of mine. Len rose from the floor, helping Barry to his feet, then Iris. Joe pushed to his feet angrily.

            “We could’ve used their help getting out of here, you know.”

            Len frustration finally bubbled over. “I’m sorry that everything hasn’t gone entirely according to your every plan, West. In case you haven’t noticed, my life hasn’t exactly been fairy dust and princess gowns since I joined this little quest.”

            Joe’s eyes narrowed. “No one begged you to come along.”

            Barry opened his mouth, ready to jump in, but Len already had enough of the conversation. “Trust me, West, I’ve known from the start you’ve wanted me and Mick gone. And look—you already have half of your wish, and with any luck on your part, maybe the bad luck I’ve received because of you will kill me.”

            He turned to storm off, only to give a shout when the ground underneath him gave out. Must have been a covered mineshaft. He could absently hear shouts of his name, and above him, he could see Barry’s enchanting face staring fearfully at him, but it was all backseat to the crack he’d felt when his back impacted the ground. He tried to move his arms or legs, but nothing happened accept pain shooting through his body. When he came to terms with what happened, he nearly shattered into sobs.

            His back was broken.

0000000

            Barry stroked Len’s face gently. They couldn’t move him. He couldn’t move himself. And Barry refused to leave him.

            The shaft they’d fallen into had three tunnels forking off of it—Iris and Joe had split up to take two of them, trying to find a way out. Barry thought it had something to do with Joe now being unable to look at Len without guilt stabbing him in the heart.

            He was supposed to be checking out the third tunnel—plan was to find a way out, then find a way to drag Len with them. Barry knew that wouldn’t do any good, though. In a place like the Kingdoms, a broken back was a death sentence, especially when they were running for their lives. Barry couldn’t stand for him to be alone, not in the dark.

            “Barry…”

He shushed Len, running his thumb over the criminal’s cheek. “It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.”

Len shook his head. “No…I can’t move…” His voice was pained. “Get…get yourself out…find Mick, he’ll take care of you…”

“I’m not leaving you here to die.” Barry swore.

A sniffle echoed through the tunnel. “I don’t want to die down here.” Len confessed. “Not in the dark, trapped in some mountain tunnel.” _Not without Mick_ he didn’t say. Barry shuddered sorrowfully. If Mick found them again, how would he be able to explain why Len was no longer with them? How could he tell Mick that his happily ever after had died alone in the dark?

Oliver whined, walking over to lay his head on Len’s chest. Barry was almost positive that if Oliver weren’t turning into a dog, he never would’ve shown so much affection for the criminal. A cool breeze blew through the tunnels, and Barry shivered.

_Wait…_ He thought, _A breeze…in an underground tunnel?_

He stared down the third tunnel. The way out had to be that way. A soft noise in the tunnel prickled his ears—it was the sound of a woman singing. Maybe she was part of some expedition? Maybe they could help them with Len?

“Oliver, do you hear that?” Barry whispered. “It sounds like there’s a woman down that tunnel.”

Oliver’s ears perked up, and, if Barry didn’t know better, he’d say a gleam of recognition sparked in the dog’s eyes. Without a word, he ran for the tunnel.

A hand clasped Barry’s. “Scarlet…” Len gasped. “Don’t…don’t go. You don’t know…could be a trap…”

Barry rested his hand on Len’s and leaned down to kiss his forehead. “I’ll be alright, Len. I’m going to find the woman, and then we’re going to find the way out. Then, I’ll come back for you. I promise.”

Len nodded. “Get yourself out.” He stated. His eyes were hard and determined, but Barry just responded with:

“I’m coming back for you.”

He climbed to his feet and grabbed a lantern they’d found off the floor. There were words he wanted so badly to say, but to say them with Len lying broken on the ground felt too close to a good-bye, so Barry held them in his heart, daring only a quick glance back.

The voice led Barry and Oliver through a small labyrinth of tunnels, up a slope, through a short cave, until the music died down, and Barry found Oliver, staring through the doorway of a cave. He turned to see what the prince was staring at, and his heart skipped.

Beyond the doorway was something Barry could only describe as magical. It was a cavern as big as Joe’s house, lit up by some sort of unnatural light. Everything was cold—the walls were frozen with ice, the spires protruding from the ceiling and floor were icicles, and the floor was covered in snow. It took his breath away.

            He walked reverently into the cavern, Oliver at his heels, his eyes locked on a round monument in the very center. Surrounding it was an inscription:

 

_For Seven men, she gave her life._

_For one good man, she was his wife._

_Beneath the ice at Snow White falls,_

_here lies the Fairest of them all_

           

            Barry’s heart nearly stopped. He walked up the few steps to stand on the memorial…on the _grave_ , and what he saw warmed him.

            Lying under a sheet of ice, still, with eyes closed so she could almost be sleeping, was a woman: hair as black as ebony, lips as red as blood, skin as white as freshly fallen snow.

Barry knelt to run his fingers against the ice, but the minute his skin brushed against it, Snow White began to fade away. He frowned, unsure of what he’d done or what had happened.

“Hello, Barry.”

He turned towards the voice, only to find the woman from the grave standing behind the memorial, watching him sadly. “Snow White.” He whispered. The woman nodded. “But…aren’t you…?”

“Dead?” Snow White smiled. “Yes, I would say so. I act as more of a fairy godmother now. I helped you on the road through the forest, as the cherub in the Kissing Town, and I have shielded you from the queen’s mirrors.” She stepped closer to the memorial and extended a hand to help Barry down. “But I can’t protect you forever, dear Barry. Soon, you will have to see and be seen.” She sat on the stairs and motioned for Barry to take the seat beside her.

“I…I don’t understand.” Barry stammered, staring in awe at the once-princess. When Barry was in school, one of his English assignments was to do an analysis on fairy tales. While researching, he came across an illustration of Snow White. He remembered thinking that it was one of the most beautiful drawings he’d ever seen.

Now, though, he could see that the picture paled in comparison to the real thing.

A bark cut through his thoughts, and Oliver was bounding over to lay his head in Snow White’s lap. _“Grandma!”_ He exclaimed, practically bouncing with excitement that Barry had never seen before in the prince.

Snow White laughed. “How do you like my grandson?”

“Honestly, he was a bit of a douche at first.” He smiled, scratching the dog in question behind the ear.

Snow White nodded. “I believe that getting turned into a dog has done him a world of good. He’s been taught a bit of kindness and humility.”

Barry chuckled at that, before the reality of Oliver’s curse hit him. “No, but he’s losing his mind and forgetting who he is…”

“Which is why,” Snow White interrupted, “it is time for you to take charge.”

He looked at her in shock. “No.” He shook his head. “No, I can’t.”

Snow White’s sad smile reappeared. “Barry, I want to tell you a story. My mother was a queen, who longed for a child. She would sit at her ebony window for hours, looking out at the snow and dreaming of a beautiful baby girl. Then, one day while sewing, she pricked her finger and three drops of blood fell onto the freshly fallen snow. It was then that she knew she would die giving birth to me.”

Barry’s heart ached, remembering what losing his mother felt like.

“Eventually, my father remarried. His new wife was beautiful and the only thing she brought with her was her mirrors. Every day, she’d lock herself in her room, take off all of her clothes and say, ‘Mirror, Mirror on the wall. Who is the fairest one of all?’ and the mirror would reply, ‘You, my queen, are the fairest.’ And she was happy, because her mirrors only told the truth.

“Then, years later, she asked again and this time, the mirror answered, ‘My queen is fair indeed, but Snow White is fairest.’ So, she sent out her huntsman to take me out in the woods and cut my heart out.”

She took a deep breath and looked him in the eye. “Can you imagine, Barry? Someone hating the very sight of you so much, they wanted you dead?”

 Barry shook his head, and Snow White looked at him pitifully and nodded. “I was carried out into the woods, and, when the Huntsman pulled out his dagger, I fell to my knees and begged. ‘Please.’ I said. ‘Please, let me live.’ He told me to run into the forest and never come back and I did. Have you ever been lost and scared in the dark woods?”

He nodded, remembering the Huntsman’s forest.

“I ran in the darkness for miles and miles, until I came across a little cottage.”

“The cottage we found!” Barry exclaimed.

Snow White laughed. “Yes, and everything was small like me and I was so exhausted, I passed out on one of the beds. I was awoken later by the sound of voices. Seven little men climbed up the stairs and I was so frightened. But when they looked at me, they all smiled kindly. ‘My, what a beautiful little girl.’ They said.

“I made a deal with them. If I did all the cooking and cleaning and mending in the house, they would allow me to stay and protect me. I thought that I would be happy there, that I’d found where I belonged with these kind people that had taken me in. But, as much I loved them, and as much as they loved me, I found that they were not so different from the queen. Both wanted me to stay a small child, and neither wanted to face the facts that I was growing up.”

Her words brought Barry’s mind to Joe, who loved him, but refused to let him grow up and make his own choices. Maybe he had more in common with Snow White than he thought.

As if reading his mind, Snow White nodded. “They said they would never let the queen find me. But I knew, she would eventually. And she did.

“The first time she came, she tried to choke me with a silk stash. The second time she came, she used a poisoned comb for my hair. Each time, after she left, the dwarves came home just in time to save me. Then, the last time she came, it was with a poisoned apple. And this time, she waited, she held me in her arms, until I died, choking on a piece of that poison fruit.”

A thoughtful look crossed Snow White’s face. “I often think, why did I let her in? Didn’t I know she was bad? And I did, of course I did. But I also knew that I couldn’t keep that door shut all my life, just because there was a chance I might get hurt.”

At that point, she took Barry’s hand and sighed. “The Dwarves placed me in a glass coffin, because they couldn’t bear to see me buried, and took me to the top of a hill.”

“In Kissing Town!”

Snow White nodded. “A prince came by and offered to buy the coffin, but the Dwarves refused. So, every day for a year the prince returned until the Dwarves saw that he had fallen in love with me just as they had. They accepted his payment, and, when I was moved, one of the bearers dropped me, and the piece of poisoned apple lodged in my throat was freed.”

She squeezed Barry’s hand. “At our wedding, the Dwarves gave me away, and I knew that I’d been given a special gift—the love of those who don’t love easily, but love with everything they are.”

            They fell into silence for a moment, Snow White seemingly lost in her memories, while Barry thought back on all she’d said. The story was familiar, of course. His mother told him the story every night when he was a child. Hearing it straight from Snow White herself though, made it feel brand new.

“What does any of this have to do with me?” He finally asked.

Snow White sighed. “Everything, Barry.” She reached up and stroked his cheek. “Your mother’s fate hangs over you like a dark cloud, holding back the sun from you. You’re still lost in the woods, waiting to be found. But people like us—lost, lonely people like us—can find and rescue themselves. You are standing on the edge of greatness.”

All at once, Barry felt the heaviness of everything pushing down on him, threatening to crush him. All the pain and sadness he’d pushed down for so long dragged itself to the surface and, for the first time in a very long time, Barry allowed himself to break.

 “No,” His voice broke, “No, I’m not. I’m useless. It’s my fault this is happening. It’s all my fault.”

Arms wrapped around him, and Snow White pulled him against her chest, running her fingers calmingly through his hair. “Barry, you know that’s not true.” She whispered. “Without you, none of you would have gotten this far. You are a beacon of hope to them, Barry.  And, one day, you will be a beacon to other lost boys and girls like you. Now, stand up.” She stood and dragged him up with her. “Our time is almost done.”

She walked over to another section of her memorial and picked something up. As she walked closer, Barry could see it was a small, golden hand mirror. “This mirror will show you what you do and do not want to see, Barry. Once you use it, the Queen will be able to see you.”

 He accepted the strange gift with a nod.  

“You need to find the comb that my stepmother used to kill me.” She continued. “Poison is how the Queen will strike, and it is also how she must be stopped.”

The light around them started to dim, and Barry noticed his torch dying. Before he could panic, Snow White laid a hand on his shoulder. “Let the light die, Barry. Embrace the darkness, don’t fear it.”

_Mom, I’m scared._

_You aren’t afraid of the dark. You’re afraid of being alone in the dark. But you’re never alone, my beautiful boy._

“You may ask for one wish, and I will try to grant it.” Snow White’s voice jarred him from his memory.

Barry bit his lip. He could wish for a way home, for the way out, for Oliver to be human again… “I wish…that Len’s bad luck was over. Oh, and that his back wasn’t broken anymore!”  

Snow White smirked. “That’s two wishes, Barry. But it’s done.” Her eyes glassed over suddenly, and a horrified expression crossed her face. “You must go to him, now. He’s alone and in danger.”

Barry’s heart stopped. “What? But how…?”

“Run, Barry! Run!”

Without another question, Barry hurried out of the cave, Oliver close on his heels.

0000000

Len had never given much thought to how he would die. If he had, he probably would’ve thought either his father, before _he_ died, or some prison related incident. However, he always thought that Mick would be right there, either struck down with him or comforting him as he went. He definitely didn’t think he’d die alone in a hole in a mountain because of a broken damn mirror.

He wished he could regret meeting Barry, being pulled into this situation. If he’d been smart, he would’ve just taken the prince and given him to the Queen when he had the chance. But he couldn’t regret Barry. Sure, he couldn’t feel anything below his waist and everything above his waist was in excruciating pain, but at least he did something good.

It was hard to tell how long he’d been left alone when he heard footsteps approaching. The cave above him filled with torch light. As the light came closer, his eyes struggled to adjust.

“Barry?” He asked, only seeing a silhouette. “Is that you?”

“Not quite.”

The thick-accented voice sent shivers down Len’s spine as his eyes finally adjusted to Slade Wilson standing over him, hunting knife pointed at his chest. “Now, you and I are going to have a little talk about your friends. Specifically, the young man with the dog.”

He motioned to the three tunnels. “Which way did he go?”

Len scowled. “Go to hell. There’s nothing you can do to me that I haven’t had done to me before. I won’t give Barry up.”

“How noble.” The Huntsman sneered. “But if you think a couple of beatings from Daddy are going to prepare you for what I have planned, Snart, you have another thing coming.” He brought the knife up to Len’s cheek, running it gently up his skin until he reached his eye. “Now, tell me where the kid is.”

“Right here.”

A loud _thunk_ echoed through the cave, and Slade jerked up like he wasn’t sure what’d happened. Then, two more sounded, and the Huntsman fell to the ground, his eyes rolled back into his head and a bead of drool dripping from the corner of his mouth.

If his back weren’t broken, Len would’ve seriously considered jumping for joy at the sight of Barry holding his torch over his head like a club, gazing over the Huntsman like he wasn’t sure if he killed him.

            Loud running drew both of their attention to the other two tunnels, and Iris and Joe both rushed into the cave with worried expressions.

 Joe frowned when he saw Slade on the ground. “What the hell—?”

Barry ignored them, his mind clearly elsewhere. He reached a hand down to Len. “Get up.”

The criminal snorted. Was Barry still pissed at him? “I don’t know if you remember, Scarlet, but my back is a little broken at the moment.”

The other man raised an eyebrow. “Not anymore.”

The certainty in Barry’s tone made Len question it enough to move a bit. He tensed, expecting horrible pain, but instead…

“It’s healed.” He frowned, taking the hand and rising to his feet. “How did you…?”

But Barry was already walking away towards the tunnel he’d come from, Oliver on his heels. “Follow me.” He shouted behind him. “There’s something you all need to see.”

            He led them quietly through the winding mountain tunnels, torch held high. Iris, who was behind him, looked back on Len and Joe, obviously questioning Barry’s strangeness. “Is this the way out?” Joe asked from the back of their group.

            Barry shook his head. “Better.”

            “What’s better than the way out?”

            They came to a stop outside the opening of a small cave, and Barry smiled excitedly. “This is.” He stepped into the cave…and his face fell.

            Len didn’t really see what could be so great about the cave. It was dark, with stalagmites and stalactites like any other cave. But Barry was searching it with such disappointment, like he knew there’d been more to it.

            “I don’t understand…” He glanced down at Oliver, who seemed equally disappointed. “It was here.”

            Joe, Iris, and Len shared a look. None of them understood why Barry had brought them to an empty cave, but they all knew he wouldn’t have done it without a reason.

            “So, what do we do?” Iris asked. 

            Barry turned back to them, and, with a huge grin, blew out his torch. The cavern plunged into almost complete darkness.

            “Barry!” Joe exclaimed. “That was our last torch. We don’t have any more matches!”

            Barry quickly shushed him. “Listen.”

            They all froze and went silent. Len focused his hearing and…

            Hope rushed through him. “Water. There’s a waterfall nearby.”

0000000

            When Slade woke up, he was alone in the pitch-black cave. Damn that kid! He had them—Snart was _right there_ in his clutches. The dog was _with the kid_. And _still_ they got away. He howled in anger as he climbed to his feet. He wanted nothing more than to murder that kid, snap his neck with his bare hands.

He listened for any sign that they were still in the tunnels. He could hear a waterfall down the tunnel to his left—probably the way out—but no sounds of footsteps ahead. In the tunnel behind him, however…

Slade moved quickly to hide next to the opening of the tunnel. The footsteps were soft and even—way too precise to be his prey, but perhaps it was someone that knew something. He slowed his breathing and waited until he could see a torch light up the tunnel. His hand tightened around his sword when the steps were right at the entryway, and he leapt forward, ready to take his new prey.

He stopped when he saw who it was.

“Let me guess.” Malcolm Merlyn smirked humorlessly, his bow drawn. “You’re tracking down Prince Oliver and his companions.”

Slade sneered, but nodded. “The wolf broke off from them back in Kissing Town, and I tracked the rest down here, trying to find a replacement for that damned mirror.”

Merlyn nodded. “That means that they’ll be heading for Prince Oliver’s castle next.”

Slade put away his sword, and Merlyn lowered his bow. “Even without the wolf,” Merlyn said, “there are still five of them. And one of them knows how to evade you.”

“What exactly are you suggesting?” Slade growled, not particularly liking where this was going, but knowing that there was no other way.

“I’m suggesting that we work together to capture them and bring them to the Queen. We know where they’re going and which road they have to take to get there. They can’t escape us both.”

            Despite his hesitancy to join forces with the Assassin King, something curled in his stomach at the thought of finally trapping that twerp and his friends.

0000000

            The light of day was one of the most beautiful things Barry had ever seen exiting Dragon Mountain. From the groans of everyone else, they shared his sentiment. They edged around Snow White Falls, down the river, and into the forest. Then, Barry let out a whoop of victory.

            “We made it!” He cheered. Iris laughed along with him, and he picked her up to spin in the air. “We know where the mirror is, and we made it out of the mountain!”

            Oliver seemed to share their enthusiasm. He practically frolicked through the trees, barking with excitement. Iris ran after him to make sure he didn’t wander off too far, and Len stepped up to take her place next to Barry.

            “Welcome back to the 4th Kingdom, Scarlet.” Barry could hear the exhaustion and relief in his voice. They both knew that, if Barry hadn’t shown up when he did, there was no telling what Slade would’ve done to him. Barry resisted the urge to cringe—the thought of losing Len…

            He slipped his hand into his jacket pocket, and his fingers brushed against something cold.

            “Scarlet?”

            _This mirror will show you what you do and do not want to see, Barry._

He pulled the ornate, gold framed mirror from his pocket.

_Once you use it, the Queen will be able to see you._

Out of the corner of his eye, Barry could see Len tense up, and Joe approached with a curious expression. “Where the hell did you get that?”

            “Snow White gave it to me.” Barry grinned, raising it to his face. Joe frowned like he’d just spoken another language, but Len was staring at him in awe. He had a lot to explain. But for now…

            “Mirror, mirror, in my hand. Who is the fairest in the land?”

            The small glass shifted and swirled until it finally settled on an image. It was a room, a dark one with stone walls and elegant décor. In the center of the room, standing in front of a semi-circle of black framed mirrors, was a woman. The woman had her back to them, but Barry could see her long, wavy red hair cascading down the long, black cloak on her back.

            From Len’s sharp breath, he knew that this was the Queen and her magic mirrors. This was the woman that had ruined so many lives.

            Barry frowned. There was something familiar about her. Something Barry just couldn’t place. Then, she turned around, like she knew they were watching her. Barry nearly dropped the mirror.

            Iris and Oliver came running back joyfully, but the former skidded to a stop when she noticed the shocked expressions on both Barry and Joe’s faces.

            “Barry,” Joe swallowed hard. “That’s…”

            “It’s my mom.” Barry heard the words leave his mouth, but his mind was too focused on the glass. His mother was alive. She was alive and the Queen. _How could she be here?_ _What happened? Why did everyone think she was dead?_ He had so many questions.

            Suddenly, the mirror was ripped from his hands, and Len was throwing it into the falls. There was relief on Joe’s face, but all Barry could feel was shock and surprise.

            “What the hell was that?” He demanded, watching the river carry the looking glass away. “Why did you throw it away?”

            A dark expression fell over Len’s face. He turned away from Barry. “If we can see her, she can probably see us. Believe me, kid, she may be your mother, but I _know_ the Queen. She is ruthless, heartless, and would kill us all if she knew where we are.”

            He moved past the group, stomping off into the woods without another word. Barry wanted to go after him, but thought better of it. He knew what the Queen—what his _mother_ —had done to Len and his family. What she’d done to Oliver and his family. What she was trying to do to the entire kingdom. How could he comfort someone about that, when he wasn’t sure how well he was handling it? Why would Len want to be comforted by the son of the woman that helped destroy his life?

            “I don’t understand.” Iris’ voice cut through his thoughts. “I thought that your mother died?”

            “There wasn’t a body.” Joe reminded her. “We thought the river took it, but now…”

            “Now we know she survived.” The two turned their attention to Barry, who was shaking with…fury? Tension? Sorrow? He wasn’t even sure. “She survived, and somehow she found the same portal we did…she came in through the travelling mirror.”

            And then what? She became a psychopath overnight? Was she brainwashed? Tortured? What could have possibly happened, where the woman that read him bedtime stories and told him not to be afraid of the dark became a woman that poisons people and destroys lives?

            They all walked on in silence: Barry lost in thought, his eyes locked on Len in the lead, Oliver romping not too far away, and Joe and Iris taking the rear, neither seeming to want to break either from their thoughts.

            When they all walked out of the forest towards the main road, Barry wished they had. None of them noticed how quiet it had gotten all of a sudden, how they hadn’t seen any animals around for a bit. For them, the first sign that something was wrong was Len falling to the ground, a large dart in his neck.

            _“It’s Malcolm!”_ He heard Oliver shout as he ran off from the direction of the dart, only to get hit with one coming from the other direction. Slade Wilson stepped out of the trees, a blowgun in his hand and a wicked smile on his lips.

            Joe grabbed Barry’s arm to pull him away, but there was another dart that shot from the other direction, and Joe fell, unconscious, to the ground.

“Iris, run!” He shouted, turning and running towards her. Before either could get far, though, Malcolm Merlyn stepped in their path, blowgun raised. He fired at Iris first, who dropped like a sack of potatoes.

Then, he turned it to Barry, who stepped back, only to bump directly into Slade. A dart was jammed hard— _hard—_ into his neck, and almost immediately, his vision grew fuzzy. “You’re lucky the Queen wants you all alive, kid.” The Huntsman growled. “If it were up to me, I’d gut all of you right here.”

Those were the last words he heard before everything went black.

 

 

 

           

 

           

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you see that twist coming? 
> 
> So, the final update will be either right before or right after Christmas, I'm hoping. I'll keep everyone updated on my blog if anything changes (http://coldflashwave-baby.tumblr.com). Give me a follow while you're at it ;)


	4. The Ones Who Saved the 9 Kingdoms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Once upon a time, there was a little boy who lived on the edge of the woods. He was warned about the dangers of the forest, but he went inside anyway, and met a man and a wolf. And do you know what happened?”
> 
> The boy shook his head. 
> 
> “Of course you do. He died horribly, and everyone else forgot about him, and they lived happily ever after…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished this at 4am with no beta. Please consider that as you read.

  

* * *

 

          **Book 4: The Ones Who Saved the Nine Kingdoms**

**“Love is like death: it must come to us all, but to each his own unique way and time. sometimes it will be avoided, but never can it be cheated, and never will it be forgotten.”**

**― Jacob Grimm**

 

Something was up. Thea could feel it.

            It wasn’t just the strange way Oliver had been acting—from going on and on about bowls of water and gnawing bones to the way his tongue sometimes hung out of his mouth, almost like he didn’t notice.

            No. Since he arrived, along with a new squadron of guards and team of servants, it was like a dark cloud had grown over the castle. An entire corridor had been blocked off not even an hour after his arrival by one of the new servants, claiming to be under the orders of the prince.

            It wasn’t until she walked into Oliver’s room unannounced that she knew, for a fact, that the man living in the castle wasn’t her brother. He was curled up on a blanket thrown on the floor in front of the fireplace, scratching at his ear like a dog with his tongue still hanging out.

            When he saw her, he quickly stopped. “Hey there…” A confused gleam flashed in his eyes, and Thea could tell that he had no idea what her name was. Her warrior instincts kicked in, and she pulled a dagger from her belt, lunged for the imposter, and pressed the blade to his throat.

            “Who are you?” She demanded. “What have you done with Ollie?”

            Fear shadowed the imposter’s eyes. He stuttered and stammered, obviously trying to find some excuse, when his eyes flickered behind her.

            “Such a clever girl.” That voice...Thea spun around to see the Queen blocking the doorway, two guards flanking her. The imposter Oliver slipped away to cower beside her, and how did Thea not see it all before?

            She stepped back. “Whatever you’re planning, you won’t get away with it.”

            The Queen laughed. “My dear girl, I already have.” She nodded to the two guards, who marched over to Thea, taking her dagger and restraining her. “Take her to her room and lock her in for her father to collect if he returns. It’s time we took the castle for ourselves.”

            As Thea was dragged away, she couldn’t help but wonder what awful thing the Queen had planned for the coronation.

0000000

He was in Snow White’s cave again. This time, though, he was alone. He stepped up to the memorial again, expecting to see Snow White’s pristine, peaceful face inside. Instead, he saw himself, eyes closed like he was asleep with his hands crossed over his stomach.

            Something drew his attention near the door, and he turned to see Mick staring back at him. He wanted to run, to throw his arms around the wolf’s neck and apologize for running him off, but his feet wouldn’t let him. When he turned back around again, Mick was knelt down on the other edge of the memorial, dressed in the same costume he’d worn when they were getting their portrait made in Kissing Town.  Barry frowned as Mick ran a hand over the ice his body was under.

            “Mick?” He tried to say, but it was like he was underwater. The wolf didn’t react. “Mick, I’m so sorry. I…I miss you…”

            Still, the wolf didn’t hear. Barry blinked, and suddenly, Len was beside Mick, only he was staring directly at Barry. “Poison, Barry.” He said, his voice echoing off the walls despite how quietly he said it. “Poison is how she will strike, and how she will be defeated.”

            His eyes shifted to Barry’s hand. Clutched in his fist was a golden hair comb, decorated in gems.

            “Do it, Doll.” Barry nearly jumped away when Mick appeared an inch from him, an intense glare in his eyes. “Do it…or be like Snow White.” He grabbed the wrist of the hand with the comb and raised it until the poisoned tips were pressed against the skin of his neck. Then, before Barry could stop him, Mick jammed the comb into his own throat.

            He screamed silently as the wolf fell on the memorial, his blood decorating the snow. When he raised his eyes to Len, the ex-criminal was staring blankly at him. “Don’t think, Barry.” He advised. “Become.”

 

 

Barry gasped awake. His head was swimming. It felt like a lump of rocks had fallen on his head. He groaned, raising a hand to rub his eyes, only to find more weight on his arm than he remembered. When he opened his eyes, he could see why.

He was sprawled out in the back of a covered wagon, half on top of Iris, who his right arm was cuffed to, and half under Joe, who his left arm was attached to. Handcuffed to Joe’s right was Len. Barry frowned, trying to remember…

 _Oh yes._ Malcolm Merlyn and Slade Wilson decided to join forces and kick their asses while they were all reeling about Barry’s mother being the Queen. To be fair, it was a dick move. Even for them. Speaking of which…

He raised his head slightly to get a better look at where they were. From the look of things, they were miles from where they’d been before, Dragon Mountain no more than a backdrop for them now. Slade was in the back of the wagon with the four of them, taking a nap of his own, while Merlyn sat at the front driving. So, if he could wake Iris, Len, and Joe quietly, maybe they could slip out of the back without the assassin noticing. That only left Oliver.

The dog had a chain around his neck, the end of which was wrapped around Slade’s hand. Barry bit his lip. If he tried to free Oliver, he would risk waking up Slade. All of them getting away would be hard enough without their plans being given up prematurely. 

The dog raised his head from the floor, clearly haven woken up before Barry had. _“Go without me, Barry.”_ He begged. _“Wake your family and get away while you still have a chance. All the Queen can do is kill me. At this point, it will be a mercy.”_

The words broke Barry’s heart, but he knew that he couldn’t get Oliver out. He’d have to go back for him when they went for the mirror.

He woke up Iris first, covering her mouth with his hand and shaking her awake. Then, he moved on to Len on the other end of their chain, who woke up with murder in his eyes until he saw Barry. Once Len kicked Joe awake, Barry motioned for Iris to scoot towards the open back of the wagon. He held up three fingers, and everyone nodded. Two. One.

They all tumbled as quietly as possible from the wagon, not even moving from where they fell until they were sure Merlyn hadn’t noticed their escape.

“Now what?” Len asked, pulling himself—and Barry and Joe by association—to his feet. Iris rose up from the ground and brushed the grass off of her pants.

“We go after the mirror.” She answered matter-of-factly. “That’s where this is all heading—Oliver’s castle. The mirror is there, Barry’s mom is there, and now, Oliver is going to be there. If we have the element of surprise sneaking in, we have a chance.”

Joe nodded in agreement. “Snart, do you know a way to the castle that _doesn’t_ lead us down the same road Wilson and Merlyn are heading?”

Len frowned. “There’s a swamp, not three miles east of here. I’ve never been there, but they say that, if you cut through, it’ll take at least a day off of your journey. It skirts the castle grounds.”

“Why doesn’t everyone use it then?” Barry asked.

“Because most people never come out. Some say that the Swamp Witch gets them, and sucks their life force from their bodies.”

If he’d been told a few weeks ago that there was a witch that could suck out his life, he wouldn’t have even considered going into the swamp. Now, however, he just shrugged. “Doesn’t sound any worse than anything else we’ve seen.” He started heading east, not even looking back to see if anyone was following. He wasn’t going to be afraid anymore. He refused to be. Destiny was on his side.

0000000

It was almost impossible navigating a swamp while attached to three other people. The path was only wide enough for two people at a time, so Joe was forced to the back with Snart while Barry and Iris led the way. He could feel Barry’s anger at him. At this point, he figured he should just get used to his foster son being upset until they got home. It didn’t help that the thick, humid swamp air was making them all irritable.

Or that roots seemed to appear out of nowhere. “Sorry!” He exclaimed as he steadied himself after falling yet again, only this time dragging everyone else down with him.

“Oh my god!” Barry growled. “I’m so sick of being chained together!”

_We can help you with that._

Joe jumped. Three little lights fluttered around them. When they came to a stop in front of them, they transformed into three…fairies? Sure, why not?

 _Ooooo, look at them._ The one on the left giggled. _They’re lost, and so dreadfully tied together._

“Can you help us?” Iris asked. The one in the middle nodded, but Snart pulled the chain to get her attention.

“Those are sprites. You can’t trust them. They’re mischievous and wicked little beasts. We’d be better off ignoring them and moving on.”

The one to the right pouted. _Well, that’s not very nice. We know how to survive in here, unlike you four.  You don’t even know the rules._

Joe sighed. There was only one way this was going to end quickly. “What are the rules?”

 _Rule one,_ the first one said, _don’t eat the mushrooms._

 _Rule two,_ said the right one, _don’t drink the water._

 _And rule three_ , concluded the center one, _DON’T fall asleep._

Joe frowned. Those seemed like simple enough rules to follow. Why did the sprites act like no one ever heeded them?

 _It’s none of my business,_ The center one spoke up again, looking at Barry, _but you seem to want to be as far from him as possible._ She motioned to Joe.

Barry chuckled dryly. “Not being chained together would be nice.”

_So, you want to be separated? I can do that!_

_No!_ One of the others scowled. _It’s my turn to be naughty._

“What--?” Joe went to ask, but suddenly, there was a flash of light, and his shackles fell from his hands and feet.

He glanced to his right to see Snart massaging feeling back into his wrists and grinned. Then, he turned to check on Iris and Barry. Except, he and Snart were in a different part of the swamp entirely. And his kids were both gone.

0000000

A swell of pride filled the Queen when Malcolm Merlyn and the Huntsman brought in Oliver, leashed and muzzled. It’d taken long enough for them to find him, but it would all be worth it now. She moved across her room to the open doorway where they waited.

            “My dear stepson.” She cooed. “You’ve never looked better.” There was defiance in his eyes, like he would snap at her given the chance. “So many days in prison, dreaming of this moment.”

            She fell to her knees and patted him on the head, as she used to do to her dog. “Every summer, I would watch the sunlight fall in my cell. It was my favorite time—a time I awaited every year, but each time it came, I knew another year passed where you were still alive and happy, and I was trapped in a cell.”

            She rose to her feet. “After the coronation, I will lock you in a tiny box, until you curl up and die from despair.”

            Her attention turned to Slade and Malcolm. “Where did you finally catch him?”

            “Not far from Dragon Mountain.” Slade grunted. “They were heading this way.”

            “They?” The Queen raised an eyebrow. “You caught them all?”

            The two shared a look, and the Queen resisted the urge to slit their throats for incompetency. “Where are the rest of them now?”

            Slade turned to Malcolm, who cleared his throat. “They—escaped out the back of our cart. We believe it was near the swamp. We have Oliver though. He won’t be interfering with you ever again.”

            She scoffed. The idiots. They still believed that Oliver—a _dog_ —was a threat to her plans. If the spell was going right, he was almost completely dog by now. But something about his friends…something about the boy Mick mentioned…someone was testing her.

            “The dog is not the threat.” She hissed. “The boy who found him. He’s the threat.”

            And she would kill him before he stopped her.

0000000

“Where are we?”

Iris glanced around. She and Barry were unshackled, but now they were in the deepest, darkest part of the swamp. Typical.

“Barry, I think we need to keep moving.” The swamp was making her uncomfortable. It was like the trees were watching them, waiting for them to make a mistake. She shuddered.

Barry turned to face her, and froze in place, eyes wide. “I think you’re right.” He whispered, focused on something behind her. “Iris, do you remember what Len said about a Swamp Witch?”

He didn’t wait for an answer; instead, he took her by the shoulders and spun her around. There was a moldy shack not ten feet behind them. It looked like it was made from the roots of a twisted tree, with green swamp glass in the door and windows, and three mirrors set up beside it.

“ _Who invades my swamp?_ ” A creaky voice echoed from inside the home. A shadow cast over the window, and the door swung slowly open. “ _Who comes to the home of the Swamp Witch?”_

Iris swallowed hard. The witch stepped out, her dress long and black so it dragged on the ground. Over her face was a veil that looked like it had come from the swamp itself.

“We didn’t mean to trespass! We’re just trying to find our way out!” Iris exclaimed, pulling Barry back a few steps. Maybe they could get away before…

“Iris? Barry?” The Swamp Witch asked, tilting her head curiously.

            Iris frowned. The witch’s voice sounded familiar. It clicked. “Sara?”

            The witch pulled the veiled, twiggy headdress off, revealing blonde hair and a familiar smile. Iris rushed from behind Barry and threw her arms around her ex-cellmate. “I’m so glad you’re alright. With all that’s been happening, we didn’t know if you made it somewhere safe.”

            Sara wrapped her arms around Iris, squeezing her tight. Behind her, she could hear Barry shifting uncomfortably from foot-to-foot as the hug continued, and Sara nuzzled against Iris’ hair. She sighed.

Barry cleared his throat. “Can we come inside?”

            The two pulled apart, a slight blush tinting Iris’ cheeks, and Sara nodded. They followed her into the hut, which was small—about the size of their living room and dining room together—and honestly, a bit creepy. Sara walked over to the small table in the corner and pulled out a chair for her. Barry raised an eyebrow at her as she sat down, but Iris just stuck her tongue out. Now he knew what it was like travelling with him and the flirting criminals.

            “I can’t believe you were worried about me.” Sara snorted, motioning for Barry to take the seat across from her. “All I’ve been thinking about since you left for Little Lamb was if you guys had made it home. I guess, since you’re still here, that you never did.”

            Iris shook her head. “No, we got caught up in some local politics. Then, our mirror was stolen, and we had to follow it to Kissing Town.”

            Sara leaned back, interested. “Really? Most romantic town in the 9 Kingdoms?” Her eyes darted to Barry. “How’d that go with your two boyfriends?”

            Barry’s face fell. He still hadn’t really talked about what happened between him and Mick with her, but she assumed it was pretty bad. She was waiting for him to come and talk, but the longer time went on, the less likely it seemed. Sara must have picked up on his sorrow, because she reached across the table to take his hand.

            “Remember that, if someone really loves you, they’ll come back. If they don’t, they were never worth your tears to begin with.”     

            Barry nodded, but Iris could tell that his mind was still with Mick.

            “So what happened to the mirror in Kissing Town?” Sara changed the subject. Barry threw his head back, and Iris flinched. Another painful subject.

            “My dad and Len—Barry’s not-wolf boyfriend—broke it, and we had to travel all the way to Dragon Mountain to find out what to do.”

            Sara let out a low whistle. “I bet that wasn’t an easy trek or task. Dwarves are notoriously stingy with their secrets. How’d you get out alive?”

            “We almost didn’t.” Iris explained. “The Huntsman was tracking us through it, and he almost killed Len. But then, Barry saved him and found the way out near Snow White Falls.”

            “Really?” Sara’s attention went back to Barry, like she was suspicious of him. “You found the secret way out of Dragon Mountain all by yourself? How’d you manage that?”

            Barry chuckled dryly. “Trust me, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

            Honestly, Iris was curious how he’d managed it as well. After he’d led them to the empty cave in the mountain, he’d seemed so disappointed. But then, it was almost like he was a different person. Barry had a new resolve about him. It was like he’d found his purpose, and he had all the confidence in the world to get it done. Of course, that could have had something to do with finding out his mother was alive. Barry refused to talk about any of it though.

            Sara didn’t pry, but Iris could see that she wanted to. “Anyway,” Iris continued their story, “we got out and are now heading for Prince Oliver’s castle. The Queen is there, and she’s the only person now that has a magical travelling mirror.”

            She left out everything about Barry’s mom, and Oliver being a dog. That’d be too much.

            “That’s a dangerous task.” Sara pointed out. “If you’d like, I could help.”

            Before she could answer, Barry shook his head. “We couldn’t ask you to do that, Sara. This is our fight.”

            “I can handle myself.” The ex-assassin shrugged. “How about this—I’ll be in the woods at the edge of Oliver’s castle before sunset tomorrow. The day of the coronation. If you want my help, meet me there. If not, I’ll come back here and live out my life as the Swamp Witch.”

            It seemed like a fair deal—it gave Iris time to convince Barry that they needed Sara. She nodded. “It’s a deal.”

            “Good.” She propped her feet up on the table, cheerily.

            “What is this place anyway, Sara?” Barry frowned, his eyes tracing every inch of the room. He seemed uneasy, like someone was watching him that he couldn’t see. Iris laid a hand on his arm to calm him.

            “Oh, this is the house of the Swamp Witch.” Sara explained. “You know the story of Snow White?”

            “From the horse’s mouth, actually.” Barry answered. Iris furrowed her brow. What was he talking about?

            Sara shrugged the comment off. “Well, this is where the evil stepmother crawled off to after they put the iron shoes on her and made her dance. She lived here for years, planning her revenge.”

            Barry’s eyes widened. “So that means that the Queen used to live here, too?”

            Sara nodded. “Probably. She was her apprentice, after all. This is most likely where she learned it all.” She leaned across the table with a devilish grin. “Did you want to meet the Swamp Witch?”

            Iris glanced over at Barry, who was staring wide-eyed at Sara. “I thought that she died years ago?”

            “She did.” Sara answered. “And her body…” She turned her head towards a trap door near the back of the hut. “…is right down there. If you’re interested.”

            Iris didn’t expect Barry to rise to his feet, nor did she expect him to cross over to the trap door. From the look on Sara’s face, she didn’t think he was going to take her up on her offer either. Without a glance back, Barry threw the trapdoor back and descended the stairs, leaving Iris and Sara in stunned silence.

            Sara whistled. “Damn, he’s got guts. I didn’t think he’d actually do it— _I_ wouldn’t go down there.”

0000000

            The cellar was dank and dark, with moss and slime covering the walls, and only a dim glow from a mirror at the back of the room giving it light. Barry cautiously descended the stairs, his eyes flickering around the near empty room. He pictured his mom being down here, the warm, loving woman he remembered, and it gave him a sick feeling. What could’ve happened here that twisted her so badly?

            In the center of the room was a grave. A tall, stone memorial with a dried up corpse of a woman laid out on top. Her eyes were closed, and her hands folded over her chest. Under her fingers, Barry could see the barest glint of gold.

_“You need to find the comb that my stepmother used to kill me.”_

_“Poison is how the Queen will strike, and it is also how she must be stopped.”_

He approached the corpse—the decayed body of that woman who destroyed so many lives, whether directly or not—and shivered. The hair comb was a dusty gold, the hilt covered in several small jewels, the largest no bigger than a pea. The same one from his dream…

_“Do not think, become.”_

He reached down to touch the comb, when a mummified hand quickly snatched his wrist. Barry let out a shout as the Evil Queen’s eyes snapped open to stare up at him.

“Are you lost, my child?” Suddenly, the room around him changed.

_He was in a car in the river. It hadn’t quite sunk yet, so he quickly threw the door open and waded out into the water. There were tears falling down his face as he stumbled onto the shore. He stared down at his hands…what had he done?_

_The woods were directly in front of him. He ran for them, his breath heavy in his chest. He needed to get away…he needed…_

_“Are you lost, my child?”_

_He turned to see an old, decrepit woman dressed in a hooded robe. Around her, the forest shimmered like distorted glass. The woman reached out a hand. “Come. Let me show you the way.”_

_Barry reached out to take the hand, and he was pulled forward through the travelling mirror. There was a pull in his center, and suddenly, he was standing outside of the Swamp Witch’s hut. The old woman smiled toothily at him._

_“I am dying, but my work is unfinished. The House of Snow White lives on.” She coughed deep and wet, and Barry immediately rushed to tend to her. She righted herself after a moment and patted his arm. “You will take my place. I will give you all of my power, take away all of your pain, and in return, you will finish my work.”_

Barry gasped as he was pulled from the vision. A dark, crackling laugh echoed through the cellar. “You believe you are powerful?” The corpse hissed, her grasp on his arm tightening. “She will CRUSH you!”

Barry grabbed the comb and snatched his arm away forcefully. The corpse’s hand relaxed, and her eyes slipped closed once more. With a hesitant look at the body, he ripped a piece off the bottom of his undershirt and wrapped it around the poisoned end of the comb, before slipping it into his pocket.

0000000

“So, you’re going to stay on this path.” Sara pointed to the clear walkway splitting through the swamp. “Keep going for another two or three miles, and then you’ll be right on the edge of the Queen Estate.”

Barry nodded. “Thanks for all your help, Sara. We have to find Joe and Len first, though.”

The ex-assassin pursed her lips. “They’re probably trapped on Mushroom Island. Everyone ends up there eventually if they’ve lost their way.”

“Mushroom Island?” Iris asked with a frown.

Sara just shrugged. “Just wander around a bit. You couldn’t miss it if you wanted to.”

She stepped closer to Iris, and Barry immediately felt like he was intruding on something. He cleared his throat and turned away. “I mean it, Iris.” He heard her say. “I will be there waiting tomorrow, two hours before sunset. Please be careful in the swamp—there’s a reason people never come out of here.”

There was a small catch of breath, and when Barry glanced behind him, Sara was planting one on Iris. He couldn’t hold in a small chuckle. It wasn’t until Iris pushed forward, her arms wrapping around Sara’s waist, that Barry decided to clear his throat.

“Iris? Iris!” The two women broke apart, Iris sending a poisonous glare his way. “We need to get moving.”

She sighed, but stepped away from the smug assassin. “Fine.” She agreed, looking back at Sara one more time. “Tomorrow.”

Sara nodded. “Tomorrow.”

0000000

Of everyone Len wanted to be trapped with in the Swamp, Joe West was definitely at the bottom of his list. Or, at least he would’ve been a few days ago.

Now, with the revelation of Barry being the Queen’s son, it was like his world had been turned upside down. How could he be in love with the descendent of woman who ruined his life? Why was it that, despite finding this out, he still found himself worried about where the stupid fairies had sent Barry and if he was okay?

He was confused. More so now than he’d ever been.

So, he and Joe wandered the swamp in silence, only speaking when they were calling out for Barry or Iris, or warning the other about some obstacle in their path. Finally, Joe came to a stop.

“This isn’t working.” He decided. “We’re looking for them; they’re probably looking for us. We may be passing each other somehow. I say we find a place to stop and make a small camp, see if they find us, and if not, we’ll continue searching in an hour.”

Which is how they ended up settled on a small island—more of a mound, really—covered in talking, magical mushrooms. They continued their silence—Len contemplating his relationship with Barry while Joe argued with the mushrooms.

“Look, I’m not going to eat you!” He kept repeating.

“Just a taste!” The mushroom replied. “You’ll love us.”

Len rolled his eyes. “Just ignore them, West. The Swamp wants us to stay, so it’s trying to convince us to break the rules.” He picked up a metal cup that had been sitting suspiciously on the island and scooped some water into it, taking a long drink.

Joe grabbed his arm. “Snart, what the hell are you doing?” He hissed. “We aren’t supposed to drink the water.”

Len raised an eyebrow as Joe brought a cup of his own to his lips. “Pot, meet kettle.”

Both men shared a look, and the strangest thing happened—they started to laugh. For some reason, since sitting on the island, Len felt giddier, like his problems were meaningless.

“You know,” Joe said suddenly, leaning back on a fallen log behind him. “I remember the day I took Barry in.”

Len tilted his head curiously, but said nothing.

“It was the day after we found his mom’s car in the river, and Henry Allen dropped him off at my house. He’d told Barry that him staying with us would only be temporary, but I knew better, and so did Barry.” He chuckled humorlessly. “I remember he had this bear with him, and he stuck it in the corner and said, ‘Now, you have to sit there and be all alone’. At the time, I didn’t think about how the situation made him feel—there was so much happening, it was hard to catch my breath. Now, though…so many people have left him behind. Finding out that his mom didn’t die, but chose to leave him…”

He sighed. “What I’m saying is, you should go easier on him. Whatever his mother did to you, you should know she’s done some things to him, too. Even if he doesn’t remember it. He’s pretty damaged himself, but he loves you and he loves Rory, if we ever find him again. It’ll break him if you leave him, too.”

There were no words. All Len could do is nod and take another sip of water.

“Len? Joe?”

Both turned at the familiar voice. His heart warmed at the sight of Barry trudging through the swamp, Iris at his heels.

“Barry!” Len grinned wildly, jumping to his feet and kissing the young man deeply. Barry pulled away after a few seconds, confused. His eyes darted to Joe, obviously expecting some negative response from his foster father, but the detective just laughed.

“Sit down with us!” He waved them over, holding out his cup. “Have something to drink.”

0000000

 “I’m exhausted.” Iris yawned, leaning against the log beside her father. Joe nodded in agreement. The water had been surprisingly refreshing, the mushrooms strangely tasty, and now his eyes felt like they were being held down by bricks.

“We can’t fall asleep!” Barry protested tiredly. “It…it’s the rules. No…” His eyes drifted shut, his head falling on Len’s shoulder. The criminal’s eyes were already closed, his chest rising and falling lightly.

Joe could hear Iris already snoring beside him. _Just a few minutes…_ he assured himself, his eyes falling shut. _Just…a…few…_

_He was on a throne. Beside him were two smaller, empty thrones. He had a crown on, big and golden, and beside him was a side table with a phone. He picked it up and dialed a number._

_He could see Barry dressed in a red hood and a small crown on his head, walking through the woods. He was carrying a small basket on his arm._

_He could also see Iris sitting in Jitters of all places, in princess finery, typing on her laptop. Her phone rang._

_“Hello?”_

_“Hey, Iris.” Joe greeted. “Have you heard from Barry? I haven’t seen him all day.”_

_Iris rolled her eyes. “Oh, yeah. Barry ran away. He finally got away from you after trying all these years. Isn’t that great?”_

_Joe’s heart nearly stopped. “No. No, he can’t leave, Iris. He needs me to keep him safe. Who knows what’s out there?”_

_Barry stopped walking, his eyes darting around the woods. There was growling coming from the darkness between the trees. He took another step, quickening his pace._

_“Maybe you should have thought of that, Dad, before you lied to him about his entire life.” Iris snarked. “Maybe he’s sick you. Maybe I am, too.”_

_Barry was running now. There was a monster, huge and vicious, not far behind him, nipping at his heels. It was a game. A game the beast intended to win._

_“Baby, please…” Joe begged. Iris rolled her eyes again._

_“Good-bye, Dad.” She hung up the phone and dropped it back into her bag, exchanging it for a plump, juicy, red apple. Joe knew there was something wrong_ POISONEDAPPLE _but he could only watch as Iris took a huge bite._

_Barry’s feet went out from under him, and he tumbled to the ground. The beast was over him, its eyes glowing red, its yellow teeth bared._

_Iris started to choke. Joe could feel his throat tightening up. He could feel his body shutting down as the beast tore into his son, and the apple choked his daughter…._

0000000

            A lone figure stopped at the fork in the road. Something was wrong…they were all dying. Suddenly, it was like someone took him by the hand and pulled him towards the Swamp. Someone was trying to help him save them…they were leading him to them…

            He hoped he wasn’t too late.

0000000

            _Iris was in an ice cave. She didn’t know why, or where it was, but she could feel it was important._

_“Iris.”_

_She turned to see a beautiful, dark-haired woman, who could only be Snow White. Her face was frantic, though, and Iris could sense the urgency in her words._

_“Iris, you must wake up!” She called. “You must make sure that Barry doesn’t fall under his mother’s spell. You have to protect him where I no longer can.”_

_Iris frowned. “What do you mean?” She tried to ask, but she was choking. She glanced down at her hand, and there was an apple with a bite missing._

_Snow White laid a hand on her cheek. “Wake up.” She begged. “Wake up!”_

0000000

            _He was in the Enchanted Forest again. Len knew he was being hunted…more than that, he’d already been caught. The only question was when his hunter would show himself._

_“Come out!” He growled. “Come out and face me!”_

_“Leonard.” A gentle voice said behind him. He turned quickly, only to see a woman in an elegant red hood standing behind him. He didn’t need to question who she was—the hood, the queenly stance, the warm brown eyes he knew all too well…_

_“You’re Mick’s grandmother. Queen Riding Hood I.”_

_Riding Hood nodded. “I am using all the power I have left to protect you and Barry, but it will only hold so long. Please, fight for Mick. He’s angry, but love can always soothe his beast.”_

_Len was confused, but he found himself nodding in agreement._

**WAKE UP.**

_Suddenly, someone was behind him, arm wrapped around his throat, cutting off his airway. “Sorry, Snart.” Slade’s voice growled._

_“But if you thought,” The voice changed to his father’s._

_“You were ever going to get a happily ever after,” The Queen’s voice said._

_“…you haven’t been paying very close attention.” Mick’s voice finished as his vision started blacking out._

0000000

            He ran through the swamp as fast as he could. He needed to catch up with them. The swamp was deadly and cursed. They would be dead before they could reach Oliver’s castle. His heart was pounding with fear. The reek of the swamp choked him, but he continued on, ignoring the sounds the creatures around him made—after all, he was the scariest monster there. 

Mushroom Island appeared in front of him, and on it were four lumps covered in vines. It was killing them.

            The swamp was killing them.

0000000

            _A little boy was lying in bed in his room. The room was pure white, except for the bright red apples decorating his bedspread. His face contorted in fear as he tossed and turned in his sleep._

**Barry, wake up.**

_He shook his head, not wanting to listen. A woman appeared; her hair was black as ebony, her lips as red as blood, her skin as white as snow. She held her arms out to him._

**Barry, wake up or all is lost.**

_The boy woke up with a scream. His room was empty._

_“Oh, my beautiful boy.” He looked up to see his mother sitting on the edge of his bed. The boy threw himself into his mother’s arms. “It was only a dream. Dreams can’t hurt you.” She pressed a kiss to his hair and smiled. “Would you like to hear a story?”_

_The boy nodded._

_She moved up further on the bed until she was behind the boy, and pulled out a golden comb_ THEPOISONEDCOMB _and began running it gently through his hair. “Once upon a time, there was a little boy who lived on the edge of the woods. He was warned about the dangers of the forest, but he went inside anyway, and met a man and a wolf. And do you know what happened?”_

_The boy shook his head._

_“Of course you do. He died horribly, and everyone else forgot about him, and they lived happily ever after…”_

 

“Barry!”

Barry’s eyes shot open and he sucked in a deep breath. He hadn’t noticed the air being cut off from his lungs, but now he was choking it down greedily. His savior moved away from him for a moment or two, and Barry could hear plants being pulled out by their roots, followed by more desperate gasps for air. He turned his head and tried to focus his eyes. Beside him, another blurry figure –Len, if he remembered where they’d been sitting correctly –was being embraced by their savior, while Iris and Joe brushed vines from their bodies.

 He tried to say something, but all that came out was a sharp cough. Arms wrapped around him, and suddenly, big, brown eyes were staring worriedly into his own.

“Mick?”

The wolf smiled, pulling Barry close to his chest and digging his face into his neck the same way he’d done to Len. “Hey, Doll.”

 Barry’s heart clenched. “Mick…how? How are you here?”

They pulled apart, and Mick glanced between him and Len. When Barry glanced over at the latter, there were tears in his eyes.

“I couldn’t just leave. I’ve been following your scents.”

“We went through a mountain, Mick.”

Mick chuckled quietly, leaning forward take one of Len’s hands and one of Barry’s in his own. He pressed a kiss to each of their knuckles. “I could follow the two of you across time itself.”

0000000

The walk from the swamp was somber, Joe and Iris taking the lead while Barry, Len, and Mick held up the rear, holding hands as they walked with small grins on their faces.

“So, this is a thing now?” Barry asked, his signature blush coloring his cheeks. “Like, officially?” Len chuckled, looking around Mick to smirk at Barry.

“Do you want it to be a thing, Scarlet?”

He raised an eyebrow coyly. “Well, I’m not sure Joe would approve.”

They all looked ahead where Barry’s foster father was keeping a watch on them with his peripherals. Mick and Len laughed.

“No, I would say not.” Len responded. He looked relaxed and more at ease than Barry had ever seen.

He understood completely. After Mick left them at Kissing Town, everything seemed wrong. Barry felt angry—at Len for breaking the mirror, at Joe for his mom, at himself…

Now, though, it was like everything was finally coming together, and he could take a breath and be happy. A warmth spread through him. What was it that Snow White had told him? Something about the love of those who don’t love easily being a special gift? Walking hand-in-hand with these two men who had risked everything for him, he knew that was true.

“Yeah.” They stopped, staring at him wide-eyed. “I’d really like for this to be a thing.”

Both smiled, broad and truly happy. He leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to Mick’s lips, then Len’s, before continuing on. If he thought they’d looked happy before, they were both overjoyed now.

“Wait.” He swallowed hard. Mick needed to know about his mom. Sure, Len had accepted it, but he needed to be the one to tell Mick. The wolf’s smile faltered slightly as they all three slowed to a stop. “There’s something I need to tell you before you agree to be with me. The Queen…she’s my mother.”

Barry wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it wasn’t the soft, relieved smile that pulled at Mick’s lips. “Oh, that. Doll, I’ve known that since the first time I caught your scent.”

Barry’s jaw dropped, and he was pretty sure if he turned to look at Len, the criminal would be staring at Mick with the same level of disbelief. Mick just shrugged. “Your scents are almost identical in certain aspects. I didn’t say anything because you obviously didn’t know, and Lenny here wouldn’t have wanted to follow you if he’d known then.”

“You…” Barry stammered. “You…it doesn’t bother you? Like at all?”

Mick shrugged. “You’re you. Not the Queen, not Henry Allen, not Joe West.” His eyes darted over to Len. “Who your parents are don’t dictate who you are.”

Len hung his head ashamedly.

“Hey, lovebirds!” Iris called back to them. “If you’re all done making googly eyes at each other, I think we’re here.”

They ran to catch up, ducking into the foliage at the edge of the trees. Oliver’s castle was everything a fairy tale castle should be—grand, sparkling, elegant. At the main pathway, carriage after carriage of the royal and elite rolled up, servants immediately rushing to the needs of the dignitaries. Barry caught the way Mick’s fists clenched when a woman in a red hood stepped out of one, followed by two or three other women dressed in less elegant hoods.

            “What’s the plan?” Joe asked. “Do we just walk up there?”

            “Yeah,” Iris agreed, “maybe Oliver’s sister can help us?”

            Mick shook his head. “Those aren’t royal guards down there. The Queen’s already taken over the castle.”

            Barry watched the guards help the dignitaries out of their carriages and escort them into the castle. Nothing seemed off about them—there was no ominous air about them, or dark gleams in their eyes. “How are you sure?”

            “Instinct.” Mick grunted. “Look at how nervous those servants near the door are.”

            Barry focused his attention on a trio of maids taking coats at the door. Their smiles were plastered, and their hands were shaking. Definitely scared.  

            “So, what do we do?”

             “Wait until the sun goes down.” Len answered, moving away from the tree line. “We make camp in the woods and, at nightfall, we make for the water system under the castle.”

            Iris frowned, shooting a look at him over her shoulder. “How do you know there’s a way in from there?”

            Len chuckled. “You forget—my dad was a noble, who visited the castle many times in service of the Queen. I know almost every hiding place in that castle, which includes a secret waterway that leads to the cellar.”

            Barry nodded and rose to his feet. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

Suddenly, he felt something poke him in the back. “No one move.” Barry froze in place. Len and Mick both stared at whoever was standing behind him murderously, while Iris and Joe glared. “I’d ask you to give me your money, but Barry’s boyfriend over there is probably the only one that has any.”

He tensed. How did this person know his name? Or that Len was his boyfriend? And, even if it was muffled, that voice sounded oddly familiar. “Sara?”

He turned to see their friend removing a hood that looked oddly like Malcolm Merlyn’s and laughed. Iris jumped to her feet. “You scared us!” She laughed, throwing her arms around her…whatever’s neck. Were they girlfriends?

“I told you I’d meet you here.” Sara reminded them. “And when I saw all of you exposed so close to enemy territory, I couldn’t resist.”

She took Iris by the hand and motioned for all of them to follow her deeper into the woods. Before they left the tree line, Joe grabbed Barry by the arm.

“Did I miss something?” He asked, nodding towards the retreating women.

Barry nodded. “Yeah.”

0000000

 

 Sara had a small camp set out half a mile from Oliver’s castle, with food, water, and a nice fire. She was wandering around the edge of the camp, Iris’ eyes watching unsurely. Barry sighed.

“Just go walk around with her.” He whispered, leaning against the log she was sitting on. “She obviously has a thing for you.”

Iris snorted. “Yeah, because you’re the poster boy for ‘I know about people’s affections’.”

He scoffed. “If that was a jab at my relationship with Mick and Len, we talked everything out. So—” He stuck his tongue out in a very mature manor. Iris laughed.

“Which is why Mick has been fidgety watching you and Len for the past half hour we’ve been here.”

Barry turned towards the wolf. Len was sitting beside Joe on the log across from them, sharpening his knife, but Mick was standing against a tree behind the pair. His hands were shaking slightly, and, just as Iris said, his eyes were moving between the two of them.

Before Barry could ask, however, the wolf cleared his throat. “I’m gonna go get firewood.” He grunted, walking past Joe and Len.

The moment he passed, Len put his knife into his boot and pushed to his feet, a devious smirk on his face. “I’ll help.”

He followed Mick, nudged Barry as he passed, and motioning for him to follow. He tilted his head, confused, but Len gave him a suggestive eyebrow raise that told him it might be worth his while to come along. He jumped up.

             “Me too.” He said quickly, trying to sound casual. From the smirk that Sara was sending his way, he’d failed. Before Joe could catch it, too, he sped off to catch up with Len and Mick.

            The three walked in near silence for a while, Barry holding Mick’s left hand while Len held his right. He smiled, content with just being close to Len and Mick. When they were probably a mile away from their camp, Mick slowed to a stop.

            “Listen…” Barry frowned at the wolf’s serious tone. “There’s something I…want to do with you—both of you—and I think that right now is the time to do it.”

            Len sighed, but Barry could see his face turn slightly pink. “Mick…”

            “I think I deserve it after all the shit we’ve been through.” The wolf interrupted, raising an eyebrow as though challenging Len to argue with him. Were they talking about what Barry thought they were talking about?

            They both glanced over at him, putting him on the spot. “Barry?”

            He swallowed hard. If they were talking about what he _thought_ they were talking about, he was totally in. He gave a small nod. “Anything you need, Mick.”

            A feral grin appeared on the wolf’s face. “You have to the count of ten. One…” He covered his eyes and turned his back, leaving Barry confused. Okay, not what he thought at all. A hand grabbed his, and Len pulled him away from Mick and deeper into the woods, an annoyed yet joyful expression.

            He laughed when he saw Barry’s confusion. “It’s a wolf thing.” He explained, leading Barry into the high grass of the undergrowth. “They enjoy chasing down their chosen mates. It’s a turn on.”

            _That makes sense,_ Barry thought as he ducked under a nearby log. Len followed with a small chuckle. He heard the shout of “TEN!”. Then, there was the sound of running towards them. Len nudged him, motioning for him to get up and follow before Mick got too close. There was a mirth to Len’s expression that Barry had never seen before, and it made his heart skip.

            He held in a laugh as he followed, bending low to avoid being seen. The two crept along the underbrush as quietly as possible. Len stopped suddenly, his eyes darting back and forth, before—

            “GOTCHA!” Something tackled them from behind, pinning them both to the ground. Barry gasped as he stared up at Mick gazing lustfully down at both of them. The wolf ducked down to Len, their lips meeting enthusiastically. It was arousing, watching the two of them devour each other’s lips like they’d been starved of one another for too long.

            Barry moaned at the sight, and Mick pulled away, his eyes now on him. He whimpered when the wolf lunged to kiss him, his enthusiasm just as strong, but his movements less wild, like he wanted to savor it. Hands slipped under his body, and the next thing Barry knew, he was getting pulled into a sitting position, straddling Mick’s lap.

            He shivered when a pair of cold hands slipped up the back of his shirt, and he turned his head away to see Len now seated behind him, jacket removed and laid out on the ground beside them. He swallowed hard at the implication, torn between nerves and lust. Before he could doubt himself, he wound his arm around the criminal’s head and dove towards him, taking his lips in a nervous, but no less passionate, kiss. Mick’s lips moved to Barry’s neck, nipping and sucking the skin, and Barry’s body lit up with pleasure. He whimpered against Len’s lips when Mick dragged his hands down his thighs and back up to his crotch. They stopped short.

            “Say you want this, Doll.” The wolf purred, moving his mouth to nibble on Barry’s earlobe. Barry moaned deeply, his fingers clenching at Len’s shaved head. The criminal’s lips moved to his cheek.

            “Come on, Scarlet.” He whispered. “Tell us. We want to hear you say it.” His hands crawled to the front of Barry’s shirt and up to his chest.

            “Y…yes.” He heard himself respond, and when did his voice start sounding so weak? “Please, yes. I want you. I want you both so much.”

            There was a growl, and suddenly, his back was on the ground, blanketed by Len’s jacket. His heart pounded furiously as Mick grabbed Len and dragged him against his body, ripping his shirt over his head. Len threw his head back, moans and whimpers tearing out of him as Mick attacked his torso with his mouth, leaving love bites and hickeys down his scarred torso.

            Barry reached down to ease some of the pressure in his arousal, but Mick’s hand shot down to stop him. His lustfully feral gaze turned to him, making Barry shiver.

            “Not so fast, Doll.” He released Len to remove his own shirt and crawled---yes, _crawled—_ on top of Barry. “We’ve got plans for you.”

            He glanced back at Len, who was pulling off his pants, and swallowed hard. _God, yes._

0000000

            Joe poked at the dying fire with his stick, keeping an eye on Sara and Iris, who were huddled together, the former staring like Iris was the most amazing thing she’d ever seen. He groaned. What was it with his children and falling for criminals from this land?

            Speaking of which…

            He glanced back towards the woods where Barry disappeared with Snart and Rory. They’d been gone for a long time. Should he have let them go off? Who knows what they could’ve encountered—trolls, the Huntsman, bandits? He was starting to wonder if he should go look for them when the sound of footsteps drew everyone’s attention.

Barry was the first to come back out of the forest. Joe frowned. He was flushed and breathing hard like he’d just run a marathon. There was a dopey grin on his face, and once he got closer, Joe could see how disheveled his son’s hair was. There was even a leaf tangled in it. His shirt was hanging off one shoulder, and he noticed a large bruise on his collarbone.

            What had he been up to? He could hear Iris’ muffled laughter.

            “Did you get the firewood?” He asked as Barry stumbled giddily by, a slight limp in his gait.

            His son cleared his throat. “Uh…no. We…uhhh…couldn’t find any.”

            Joe opened his mouth to ask _how they couldn’t find wood in the middle of the forest_ , when he saw Snart and Rory come stumbling through the trees after him. Snart had a smug sort of smirk on his face, and his shirt was on inside out. Rory, on the other hand, had a serene, dazed smile on his face, and when he walked past, Joe could see a long, fluffy tail poking out of the wolf’s pants, wagging back and forth.

            His jaw dropped.

No.

_No._

Iris and Sara were both near a laughing fit, but Joe was, once again, regretting that he didn’t have his gun. He supposed it was too late now to worry, and that Snart and Rory had proven that they could be trusted to take care of Barry, but that didn’t mean that Joe had to like it.

            When Snart passed Sara, Joe could’ve swore she high-fived him.

0000000

            Night was beginning to fall. The Queen watched from her window as the last of the carriages arrived. So many years of planning. Now, it was all coming to fruition. She smiled.

            The door opening broke her from her thoughts, but she didn’t turn.

            “My Queen.” Malcolm greeted.

            “The boy and his friends will attempt to sneak in with the crowd. Keep your assassins on alert, and when you spot them, have all of them brought to me.”

            “Yes, your majesty.”

            Fireworks shot up into the dark sky, signaling the start of the opening ceremony of the ball. She was so close to getting all she dreamed of. And no silly boy was going to stand in her way.

0000000

            Len led the way through the moat towards the open pipeline underneath the castle. It’d been a long time since he’d been this way—he and Lisa had been trying to hide from their father’s guards, only to find a sewer way that led out. It had been years since Len had even thought about the secret entryway, but he could still remember where it let out.

            Mick and Barry stayed close behind him, followed by Joe and Iris, and Sara took up the back, weapon at the ready, as they trudged through the water silently. He could only hope that the Queen didn’t know about the secret entrance.

            He held out a hand to stop the line once they were under one of the guard bridges. “What now?” Iris whispered.

            He pointed to the grill beside them, then down. Hopefully, they all understood. He motioned for Barry to take his hand. Showing a level of trust Len never could, Barry accepted it.

            “Hold your breath for as long as you can.” He ordered.

 Barry nodded, and, together, they dove into the murky water. The water was almost impossible to see through. Len depended on his sense of touch to tell him where the broken bottom of the grate was. When he found it, he moved Barry towards it and pushed him through. After the grate, there would be a waterline with a current that would take him into the castle. Len swam back to the surface and waved for Mick to take his hand. Once he repeated the process with everyone—though Joe gave him some resistance, but with both of his kids already through the grate, Len knew there was no way he was going to stay outside—he made his way through the waterway.

It was longer than he remembered, and by the time the line let out, his lungs were burning. Finally, he burst out of the water, coughing and panting while someone—Mick—pulled him to the ledge. The cellar was just like Len remembered. It seemed like no one had been down there for years. That was good news.

“Good job, Snart.” Joe acknowledged, patting him on the back. He huffed, adjusting his coat and pulling himself to his feet. “Now where do we go?”

Len sighed. “This is where it gets tricky. We can’t go out the way I used to come in—that corridor leads past the most populated areas of the castle.”

Sara’s eyes widened. “And you couldn’t have mentioned that before?”

Len opened his mouth to snark back, but Barry, ever the peacekeeper, stepped between them. “Now we find a way out of here. Len got us this far, now the rest of us find a way.”

“Hey.” Mick grunted. They all turned. While they’d been discussing things, the wolf had been wandering around the cellar. Now, he was standing in a dark corner, covered by stacks of old crates. “I think I found a way out.”

There were two doors in front of Mick. They were wooden and identical in every way. Something ribbited behind them.

When they turned, there was a large, warty frog staring up at them. “What the hell—?”

 _“One door leads to safety.”_ The frog croaked. _“One door leads to a horrible death. You can ask me one question…but I always lie.”_

They all shared a look. “I hate these things.” Sara groaned.

Mick leaned calmly against one of the crates. “I got nothin’. Just pick a door.”

Barry, Snart, and Iris huddled together. “We used to do these things all the time in school.” Barry sighed. “Now I can’t remember the solution.”

“Ask which door it is, then take the other one?” Iris suggested.

Len frowned. “Is that it?”

“You know what,” The three turned to see Joe barreling towards them, pushing them out of the way to grab the frog, “I have a question—what is the point of a horrible death behind one of them? What the hell does _that_ accomplish?!?”

The group watched in shock as the detective stomped over to one of the doors and threw it open, tossing the frog carelessly inside. Len had never seen this side of the detective—he was just glad that, when he finally snapped, it was the frog getting thrown and not him or Mick. When the door shut behind the frog, Joe turned away, freezing when a huge explosion echoed on the other side.

Sara cleared her throat. “I think it’s the other one.”

0000000

The door led to a back staircase, taking them through an old servants’ entrance and up into the bed chambers. Mick was in front now, leading them through the labyrinth of halls with his nose. Barry followed close behind with Len and Iris, Joe and Sara watching their backs.

Something was throwing Barry off, though. Mick had been acting anxious. Granted, they were sneaking through a castle run by a woman that wanted them dead…who was also Barry’s mom. How did their lives become this?

He followed him down the hall, until he stopped. “The Queen’s scent is up and down this hall. It’s impossible to tell which door is hers.”

            Suddenly, it was like Barry had tunnel vision. His eyes fell on a door—it wasn’t the first door in the corridor, nor the last. There wasn’t anything different about it, but all of Barry’s focus was centered on it. Without explanation, he approached the door slowly and pushed it open.

            “This is her room.” As they stepped inside, Mick took a watch position at the door.

            It was a bare room, with only a bed and a wardrobe. Then, he noticed the heavy curtain cutting across one side of it. Len followed his line of sight. He approached it cautiously and pulled it open.

            It was the room he saw in the mirror. It was round, surrounded by windows so the moonlight poured inside over the glass of the magic mirrors standing before them. He stepped around a small table set between the two rooms, eyeing each individual mirror.

            “Hey!” Sara’s shout drew everyone’s attention from the other mirrors to one in the corner of the room. It was smaller than the others, less decorative, but Barry knew what it was.

            “The mirror.” Iris gasped, running to touch it.

            “Thank god.” Joe sighed. He turned the notch on the side, and the glass shimmered. Central City appeared before their eyes, dancing teasingly on the glass. “This is it. We can go home. Iris, you and Barry go first. Then, Sara and Snart. Rory and I will take the rear—”

“No.” Barry stepped away from the mirror. “I’m not going back yet.”

            He was faced with four shocked expressions. “Have you lost your mind?” Joe asked, his voice full of outrage. “We are this close to getting home!”

            “I’m not one to agree with Joe,” Len piped up, “but he’s got a point. This may be the only chance we all have to get away.”

Barry shook his head. “None of you understand. I _have_ to see her.”

Sara frowned, her eyes flickering between all of them. “Alright, I’m confused.”

            Iris stepped forward and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Barry, I get it. You haven’t seen your mom since you were eleven. You thought she was dead. But this woman—she isn’t your mother anymore. This world has twisted her so much, there’s no more of the woman we knew left.”

            A humorless laugh escaped his lips. She didn’t get it. None of them did. “Don’t you see?” He said, moving out of Iris’ grip. “We’ve been led here. It wasn’t about the mirror, or Oliver, or any of that. It’s always been about getting me here, right now, so I can finally see her.”

            “Barry!” Joe groaned. “We don’t have time for this. We are leaving right now!”

            “NO!” Barry moved away from the others, stuck in his determination. “I am not leaving without seeing her!”

            “Your final request has been granted.”

            Joe, Iris, Sara, and Len all froze, staring at the space behind Barry with fear. He turned slowly, not truly believing what he saw. Her hair was shorter and fixed differently than it used to, and her eyes colder, but she was just as beautiful as the last time he’d seen her. He would’ve rushed over to her, had Slade Wilson and Malcolm Merlyn not been standing at either side her, weapons aimed. How had they gotten past—?

            Then, his stomach fell. Mick strolled casually up behind the Queen and her minions, calm and collected, like their lives weren’t being threatened. “Did I do well, your Majesty?” He tilted his head towards the Queen, who stroked her fingers down his cheek.

            “Of course, my wolf.” She replied, a small smile playing on her lips.

            Barry couldn’t move, couldn’t even really think. On top of seeing his mom as the Queen, one of the men he loved was also working for her? He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to react, or if he really could. Len, on the other hand, had no problem finding words.

            “You traitorous son of a—” He heard Len take a step closer, but Slade put a stop to that, moving his crossbow to point directly at him. “This is not what we talked about!”

            Barry glanced in Len’s direction, even more confused. “What? What do you mean?”

            “Did you never wonder how Lenny and I broke out of prison in the first place? How we both just _happen_ to break out the same day as the Queen?” Mick answered for him, smirking. “She released us to track down Prince Oliver and bring him back. Fortunately for her, I’m more loyal than Lenny.”

            Len’s face was red and twisted with anger, and Barry could tell that it was taking everything he had not to tackle Mick right then and there. Mick ignored him.

Sara lunged forward, ready to attack, but Malcolm aimed his bow at her chest. “Now, Ms. Lance. I know you were a very skilled member of the guard, but even you can be killed by a poisoned arrow to the heart.”

            Iris grabbed Sara’s arm to stop her from doing anything drastic, and Mick continued.

            “I did get distracted there for a while, I admit, but that dose of reality back in Kissing Town set me straight.” He sent a smug wink at Barry. “After that, I starting following all of you to make sure you didn’t interfere with her Majesty’s plans.”

            Barry shook his head, unable to listen to any more of this. “Stop! Just stop!” He begged. He could feel tears tracking down his cheeks as he turned back to his mother. “Stop it! Mom, look at me!”

            The Queen’s gaze was empty as she looked Barry over. “I have never seen you before in my life.”

            Barry felt like collapsing. By some miracle, he remained upright. “Yes, you do. I’m Barry, your son.” He stepped forward, ignoring Slade’s crossbow turning to him. He grabbed the Queen’s hand, which was quickly pulled away as if he burned her. It would’ve nearly killed Barry, had he not seen a flicker of doubt and recognition in her eyes.

            “I don’t know you.” She breathed, stepping away. “I have never seen you before.”

            Barry nodded. He was getting to her. “Yes, you have. Mom, please.”

            She looked at him—at him, not through him like she had been—and for a moment, Barry thought he had her. Then, as quickly as it came, the moment was lost.

            “You’re trying to distract me. This is powerful magic.”

            Slade, who had been watching the exchange with confusion and intrigue, leaned towards the Queen. “Your Majesty, the coronation ball will be starting soon.”

            She nodded, her eyes still stuck on Barry. “Take them down to the dungeons, then bring me Oliver. Mick, you can go down to the kitchens and make sure everything is ready for tonight. I’ll be down shortly—I would like to speak to this one privately.” Slade, Malcolm, and Mick all nodded, following her orders until only she and Barry were left in the room.

            Barry would be lying if he said he wasn’t terrified. This was a woman that he’d known for eight years, who left him and never looked back, who didn’t even remember him. How was he supposed to talk to her?

            The Queen was circling him, examining him like she was trying to find the weak link in his personal armor. “So.” She said finally. “This is Snow White’s champion. I know she’s the one that’s been protecting you, shielding you from my mirrors. You don’t seem like much, but true threats never do.” She wandered away towards the table between the two rooms, grabbing a bright red apple out of the bowl in the center. “Are you hungry?” She offered it to him.

            Barry eyed it warily, thinking back to Snow White’s tale. As if reading his mind, the Queen chuckled and took a bite. “I’m not going to poison you. What kind of person do you think I am? What lies have Mr. Snart and Oliver Queen been telling you?”

            “I know that you’ve killed a lot of people.” He answered. His hand tightened around the comb in his pocket like a lifeline. “Like Oliver’s parents, and anyone else willing to get in your way. Your Huntsman tried to kill me, and my foster father and sister.”

            She smiled sharply. “And what would you do to those that wished to stop you?”

            “Not kill them.”

            “Then you’re an even bigger fool than Snow White.”

            “There’s nothing wrong with compassion and goodness.” Barry argued. “You used to know that, Mom.”

            “Stop calling me that!” Her cool demeanor broke for a split second, enough for Barry to see his mother bleed through, but it was quickly remedied. “I don’t have a son.”

            Barry swallowed hard. “My name is Bartholomew Henry Allen. You used to say that I look like your father. My dad says that, when I was a baby, you were both so worried I would never walk until, one day, I just started running into your arms. I came here through the Travelling Mirror from Central City, _from our home,_ just like you did.”

            “What do you know about magic mirrors?” The Queen asked suddenly, putting down her apple and holding a hand out to him. Barry took it without a thought, allowing his mother to lead him over to the collection of mirrors on the other side of the room.

            “Tell me, Bartholomew Allen,” She stopped him in front of a diamond shaped mirror with a thick onyx border. “What do you see when you look into this mirror?”

            Barry frowned. He was staring at himself and his mother standing passively in front of the mirror. Something was wrong though…

            _Mirror, Mirror on the wall…_

Everything was spinning…and swirling… “What are you doing…?”

            _Who is the fairest—_

His eyes were heavier…he fought to stay awake… “What are you doing…to me?”

            _—of them all?_

By chance, Barry’s eyes darted to the side, catching their reflection in one of the other mirrors. Instead of standing beside him, she was directly behind him…and her hands were wrapped around his throat.

            She was choking him…he couldn’t _breathe…_

            He jumped away, almost running to the other side of the room to get away from her. She tried to kill him. _His own mother_ tried to kill him!

            _He couldn’t breathe; he couldn’t sit up. All he could see was a shadow above him through the water._

            The Queen took a step towards him, and Barry darted away, his head all kinds of messed up at this point. “No one has ever resisted my power like that before.” She grinned, almost looking proud. “You are something special. Why are you here?”

            “To save you.” Barry answered without thought. “To help you remember, to—”

            “To kill me?” She smirked.

            “No. Of course not.”

            “Liar.” She sneered. “But it doesn’t matter. I’m going to kill you first.”

            She moved to him again, and Barry’s hand shot for the comb. But it was gone.

            “Looking for this?” Barry gaped at the poisoned comb in his mother’s hand, knowing she must have picked his pocket while she was trying to murder him. “Tell me, Barry, how long have we been talking?”

            “A few minutes.”

            She chuckled. “You’ve been in here for almost an hour, telling me everything: your plans, the poisoned comb, your pathetic feelings, all of it. I probably know you better than you know yourself.”

            His chest clenched. The mirror had done more than distract him and mess with his head. The Queen smiled smugly, running the comb down her cheek. “If this were to break my skin, it’d kill me instantly.” She stuck it in her hair delicately.

            “Do you even care how much I’ve suffered since you left?”

            It was the last weapon Barry had in his arsenal, but the look on the Queen’s face told him it was a good one. Her smug expression fell, replaced by remorse and sorrow—like she was sad, but wasn’t sure why. Then he realized something.

 She’d called him ‘Barry’. He took a step closer. “Mom—”

            But the moment was broken. Slade Wilson opened the door, leading Oliver inside on a leash with a muzzle over his mouth.

            _“Barry?”_ He asked, clearly both frightened and excited. _“Barry! Did you bring me a treat? Are you okay? What did the Queen do to you? Can you scratch me behind my ear?”_

            Were it any other situation, Barry would’ve found Oliver’s reverting to a dog hilarious. As it was, all it did was serve as a reminder that he’d failed. He failed everyone, and he didn’t know how to fix it.

            “Take the boy downstairs with the others.” The Queen ordered. “I’ll deal with him afterwards.”

            Panic struck Barry. “After what?” He demanded, fighting as the Huntsman grabbed him by the arms and led him away. “What are you going to do to everyone?!?”

0000000

The Dog Prince shifted from foot-to-foot, his eyes squeezed closed as he muttered to himself. Despite that, the Queen was pleased with his transformation. He seemed every bit the soon-to-be king he was pretending to be.

            She was still rattled from her experience with Barry Allen. A child…it wasn’t possible. She was never married. She had no children. Somehow, he was messing with her mind, trying to distract her.

            She cleared her throat, making her presence known. The dog stopped, immediately changing his posture to Prince Oliver. She grinned, pleased. “You’ve done well.” She praised. “Pull this off tonight, and you’ll have whatever you please.”

            A bright smile stretched on his face. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door, and Malcolm entered.

            “I thought I had specific instructions for you to shadow the guests.” She growled. The assassin king bowed.

            “Apologies, your Majesty.” He answered. “The guests are getting restless. Should we start the ball?”

            “Yes.” She ordered. “Go to my room and bring the real Oliver to my hiding place. Wait until I return. I need to check something before I join him.”

            He bowed his head. She swept out of the room, the Dog Prince following like the loyal pup he was. They took back ways until they reached the kitchen, where the servants were bustling around, preparing food.

Mick was dressed in official fineries, standing at the silver trolley where the punch bowl sat, ready to be filled for the toast. She ordered the Dog Prince to stay as she approached the wolf. “Hello, Mick.”

For the first time, his eyes didn’t light up with fear and annoyance. Instead, he turned gleefully towards her and bowed low. “My Queen.”

She waved a hand for him to rise. “I must admit, you had me worried. I knew Mr. Snart would never follow me, but you…you’re something special, Mick. Far too much so to live in the shadow of some common criminal.”

She watched for any reaction to the insult, but Mick just chuckled. “Well, wolves are loyal. We find someone worthy of following, we do it.”

“Well,” the Queen motioned for him to follow her over to where the chef was mixing the drink for the toast, “when the time comes, you will do the honors.” She turned her attention to the chef. “Is it ready?”

“Yes, your majesty.” The chef nodded. “The most potent poison ever made.”

“Excellent. Have you tasted it?”

His smile fell. “N…no, your majesty. It’s—”

“Then how do you know it’s the most potent poison ever made?” She interrupted. The chef stared fearfully at her, then at Mick, who was laughing quietly.

The Queen’s patience grew thin. “TRY IT.” She commanded. The man jumped, but took the spoon from the pot. The moment it touched the chef’s lips, he fell to the ground.

Mick let out a low whistle. “Damn.”

She glanced over at the wolf. “Any problems?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Not as long as you make sure the Riding Hoods get a double helping.”

Oh, she loved having a wolf. Two attendants grabbed the pot of poison to pour into the punch bowl while three more helped set out the silver chalices. “After tonight,” she announced, “wolves are going to be very important throughout the 9 Kingdoms. They will be my secret police, and you, my dear Mick, will have a high position within my court. You will be able to have whatever—or _who_ ever—your heart desires.”

Mick’s wicked smile grew, and she knew that she’d made a right choice when she freed him—a loyal, unyielding servant with a killer instinct. Maybe, after it was all over, she could even get him to kill Snart. She felt giddy at the prospect.

0000000

            He was dragged through the castle and down a long stairwell until they came to the dank, foul-smelling dungeon. He didn’t know how many turns through the labyrinth of halls and prison cells he was pulled past until they came to a stop outside one of the doors lining the walls. Slade unlocked the door and, before anyone on the other side could rush him, threw Barry inside.

            A pair of arms wrapped around him and pulled him close as he fell to his knees. Hands were running comfortingly through his hair, and he didn’t realize he was sobbing until he heard someone shushing him.

            “It’s okay, Barry. It’s okay.” Iris cooed. Through tear-filled eyes, Barry could make out Joe kneeling just behind her with Len, who was rubbing his jaw where it looked like someone’s fist had met it. Sara stood at the back of the cell, watching the scene with interest.

            “She…she tried to kill me.” Barry cried. “What happened to her? Why is she like this now?”

            Joe reached over to stroke a hand down his foster son’s arm. “Bare…there’s something you don’t know about your mother.”

            Barry raised his head and frowned. “What are you talking about?”

            Joe sighed. “Your mom…you wouldn’t remember—you were young—but she was sick, Barry. She was erratic, and would forget things. Sometimes, she’d disappear for hours at a time. One day, I came by to drop Iris off, and she was gone; food was strewn all over the kitchen, the stove was lit and you were sitting at the table waiting for lunch. She didn’t come back for hours.

“I told Henry, and he said he’d get her some help, but it just kept getting worse. Then…” Joe’s eyes closed tightly, like he was trying to will away a particularly painful memory. Barry stared at him in shock. He’d never heard any of these things about his mother, and he certainly didn’t remember any of it.

            Joe rose to his feet and paced away from them.

            “What?” Barry demanded, pulling away slightly from Iris. “Joe, what happened?”

            He looked back at him like he was remembering eight-year-old Barry, like he’d give anything to keep Barry from knowing. He let out a shaky breath. “It was one night when I got a call from your dad. He was working late at the hospital. He tried to call your mom to tell her, but no one was picking up. Since I was right next door, I told Henry I’d look in on the two of you.” He stopped, unable to finish. But Barry needed to know…he _had_ to know.

            “Joe. What happened?”

            Joe’s eyes shifted away from Barry’s. “Neither of you were downstairs, so I decided to check upstairs. There was steam everywhere, and the bathroom door was open. I followed it in and…I saw your mother crouched beside the bathtub. It was filled to the brim with what had to be blazing hot water. I stepped inside to ask her what she was doing and where you were and…”

            Joe choked on his tears and ran a hand down his face. “Barry, you were in the tub. She was holding you under the water.”

            Barry jumped to his feet. “No.” He said, shaking his head. “No, that’s not true.”

            Joe was finally looking at Barry, eyes fierce with determination. “She trying to drown you, Barry!”

            “I don’t believe that! That’s not true!”

            “If your dad had called me a minute later,” Joe continued over Barry protests. “If I hadn’t been there, you would have died! She would have killed you!”

            Barry’s head was reeling. His mother would have never done that. But Joe wouldn’t lie. 

            “I was able to throw her off and fish you out in time.” Joe finished up his story. “By the time I had resuscitated you, she was gone. Then we found her car in the river. Henry felt so guilty about leaving you alone with her that he left, and I swore that, no matter what, I was going to protect you. The next day, you didn’t even remember what had happened, so I let you keep the fond memories you had about your mother.”

            Barry’s legs gave out from under him, but Len was quickly there to catch him. “Shhh, Scarlet. You’re going to be okay.” He reassured, raising him back to his feet.

            Joe sighed. “From that day on, you were my kid, just as much as Iris, and I have loved you as my son.”

            Muffled music started high above them. “The Coronation Ball started.” Len explained. “The Queen’s plan is going into effect.”

Barry closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He couldn’t break down. Not now, when his mother—when the _Queen_ was threatening to destroy so many people’s lives. He’d find time to be mad at Joe for lying later. He’d have time to grieve the truth. Now, though, they needed to find a way out to stop the Queen.

He sniffled and wiped a hand over his face to compose himself. “Alright. Is there a way out of here?”

Iris gasped. “I don’t know if it’s a way out, but I found something earlier.” She led them over to a wall where, scratched into the stone, were two words and a date.

WILHELM GRIMM 1805

Barry’s eyes widened. “You don’t think—?”

“Are you asking if I believe that one or both of the Brothers Grimm were locked in this dungeon once?” Iris asked smugly. “If so, then yes, and somehow they got out. We just have to find a way.”

“I think I can help.”

The voice echoed from across the dungeon. Barry rushed to the door, only to see a young, brunette woman in the cell across from them. “Hi!” He called over to her. “You know how to get out?”

The girl nodded. “Out of that cell, yeah. My brother and I used to play down here. It didn’t take us long to find a secret passageway in there.”

Len pushed his way to the door. “Why would there be a passageway leading out of the dungeon?”

The girl shrugged. “These haven’t really been used as cells since before Snow White was queen. Maybe it was added after.”

“Where is the passageway?” Barry asked. The girl frowned.

“How do I know this isn’t some trick? That blonde in there is dressed like Malcolm Merlyn’s guard. Who are you?”

“We…we’re trying to stop the Queen and save Oliver.”

The girl perked up at the mention of the prince. “Oliver? You know my brother?”

Oh, so _this_ was Princess Thea. He was starting to see the family resemblance with the lack of trust. He nodded. “Yes. The Queen turned Oliver into a dog, but I found him. We’ve been travelling with him, but we were taken by Merlyn and Slade. We escaped, but he couldn’t. We came back to save him.”

            Thea defrosted. “But he’s okay? Last time you saw him, he was okay?”

            Barry considered lying, but Thea seemed like the kind of person who would know he wasn’t being honest, and all the trust he’d just gained would disappear. “He…he wasn’t hurt. But the spell the Queen put him under is messing with his mind. If he doesn’t turn back soon, he’s going to completely turn into a dog.”

            Thea’s eyes widened in fear. “What’s your name?”

            “Barry. Barry Allen.”

            “I need you to promise me something, Barry.”

            He nodded.

            “If I tell you how to get out, promise you’ll save my brother.”

            “Of course.” He agreed. “Oliver’s my friend.”

            Her eyes traced his face for a few seconds, until she seemed satisfied. “There’s a ring on the far wall used to secure chains. If you twist it, a door will open in the wall. It will lead to a corridor that takes you through the armory and past the storerooms. From there, the ballroom is two rights and a left.”

0000000

            The Queen sat in a hidden alcove of the balcony that overlooked the ballroom, Prince Oliver laying at her feet. Malcolm and Slade were keeping an eye on things, lurking in the shadows.

            Oliver perked when Cinderella was announced as a guess—maybe he was hoping his mother’s mother would recognize the fake Oliver when she saw him. She smiled to herself—he was terribly wrong. The two-hundred-year-old former queen danced with her false grandson joyfully. If there was any doubt Oliver wasn’t genuine, no one brought it forth. 

            The Queen knew she hadn’t won yet, however. There were three tests Oliver had to pass to be crowned King—bravery, wisdom, and humility. And by the way the crowd was calming down, they were about to begin.

            “Prince Oliver!” An elf princess stepped forward. “A great responsibility will rest on your shoulders after tonight. I wonder if you will be _brave_ enough to join us.”

            One of the criers in the room banged his staff. “The prince’s bravery has been challenged.”

            “Tell us about Damian Dahrk’s defeat.” The elf demanded. The Dog Prince’s eyes cut up to the Queen’s hiding place quickly, and he took a deep breath.

            “Well…he was trying to take my lands. He questioned my ability to protect my people.” He explained. “So, I confronted him. He tried to use his magic on me, but I guess I was too quick for him. I lunged at him, but he used his assassin training and tried to pin me down. So, I used my teeth, and, before he could kill me, I ripped his throat out.”

            The Queen groaned, but the partygoers seemed to eat it up. They all cheered, declaring him ‘Oliver the Brave’.

            Next, Queen Riding Hood III stepped forward. In the corner of the room, the Queen could see Mick clenching and unclenching his fists.

            “Prince Oliver, what wisdom do you have to share with us from your journey across your kingdom?”

            Now, the Dog Prince looked nervous. “Ummm…” He squeezed his eyes shut. “That’s a tricky one. I…I have travelled far and wide. Searched in every nook and cranny of my kingdom, and I found…. bones.”

            She was going to kill him.

            Riding Hood frowned. “Bones?”

            The prince’s eyes flew open, and he nodded enthusiastically. “Yes. I found a whole pile of them. And I wanted so badly to gnaw them all, but instead, I took one and buried the rest for later.”

            She was _definitely_ going to kill him.

            Riding Hood seemed confused at first, but then—“So, what you’re saying is that we should build up the bones of our kingdoms—our military reserves—for a time when we’ll need them. Very wise, my lord. I call you Oliver, King of the Wise!”

            The crowd cheered again. The Queen rolled her eyes. None of them deserved to run their own kingdoms.

0000000

            “Is breaking out of prison going to be a regular thing with us?” Iris asked. Barry shushed her, following Joe and Len down the tunnel towards the corridor. “I’m just saying—of all of us here, you’re the only one who is breaking out for the first time.”

            He rolled his eyes. Sometimes, when she was nervous, Iris was known to be a bit snarky. Now, though, was not the time. The tunnel let out into the corridor, like Thea said, and they followed it into the armory.

            Len grabbed an axe off one of the walls. “Arm yourselves.” He ordered, grabbing another one to hand to Barry. Sara grabbed a staff, and Joe and Iris each grabbed a sword. Joe, Iris, and Sara moved to follow the corridor, but Barry grabbed Len’s arm before he could go.

            “Wait.”

            The criminal turned back, his face emotionless, but his eyes were brimming with worry.

            “I just…I want you to know that I love you. I love you, no matter who broke you out of prison. You’ve helped us, through everything. And nothing can stop me from loving you.” The _or Mick_ was silent, but they both understood it. Mick was a part of both of them. It would take more than betrayal to keep them from loving him.

            He leaned in to press a short, chaste kiss to Len’s lips. It was a promise—they were going to win.

            When they pulled away, Len took Barry by the hand, the same way he had when they were sneaking into the prison, and together, they caught up with the group.

            Suddenly, Joe stopped. There was a doorway to their left and a corridor to their right.

            “Which way did she say again?” He asked. “Left or right?”

            Barry bit his lip. He couldn’t remember. “I think…left?”

            Iris opened the door. Malcolm Merlyn and a handful of assassins were standing on the other side. She slammed it shut.

            “Right! Definitely right!” She shouted. Joe took her by the hand and dragged her down the corridor, Len doing the same with Barry, while Sara held off the ones coming through the door after them. They all froze at the end of the corridor. There were too many, and they were all trained like Sara. She wouldn’t be able to handle them all.

            “Snart, you take Iris and Barry, and go!” Joe commanded, heading back towards Sara. Barry caught his foster father’s arm.

            “Joe, no! They’ll kill you!”

            Joe shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. I help, I double your time to get away.”

            “Make that triple.” Iris stepped up beside him, sword raised. She held a hand up before her father could argue. “I’m not running. Barry has to face his mom. Len can protect him better than me. But I can help protect you and Sara.”

            From the look on his face, Joe knew he couldn’t convince her otherwise. So, he pulled her in a quick hug. “I love you, baby.”

            “I know, Dad.” She answered. She turned back to Len and Barry. “Go!”

            Len didn’t need telling twice. His hand tightened around Barry’s, and he forced him down the hall towards the secret entrance to the ballroom. His eyes stayed on his foster family until he rounded the corner. Iris was right, he reminded himself. He needed to do this.

 When they pushed open the door at the end of the corridor, however, Barry paused. They weren’t _in_ the ballroom. They were in one of the balconies above it. Below, an attendant was about to place the crown on Dog Oliver’s head.

“Wait!”

Everyone froze. An older woman, looking no older than fifty, but acting like she was much older, waddled as elegantly as possible towards the prince.

“Oh my god.” Len whispered. “That’s Cinderella.”

Cinderella scanned the prince suspiciously. “Are you really the Great Prince Oliver, grandson of one of the greatest women who ever lived, and the man who would be king?”

Barry wanted to shout down, tell them that he was an imposter, when the Dog Prince broke down.

“No!” He exclaimed. “I’m not. I’m an imposter. I’m no ruler like Snow White. I’m not even a prince! I…am a dog. I won’t take the job—I’m not worthy.”

The room was so silent, Barry thought he could hear every breath in the room. Then, Cinderella broke out into a smile. “He is humble! Prince Oliver has humility! He has passed all three tests!”

The crowd erupted into applause.

“They’re all idiots.” Len sighed.

“Now, for the royal toast!”

Barry’s eyes fell on a familiar face handing out the glasses for the toast. He nudged Len, whose jaw dropped. If Mick was handing out drinks, something was going down now. They had to warn everyone.

Barry prepared to yell out, but Len let out a gasp of pain. Barry turned to see a dagger sticking out of his abdomen. Before he could scream, a hand wrapped around his mouth.

“Shhhhh.” Slade whispered into his ear. His breathing tickled at Barry’s skin, making him shudder. “Don’t wanna ruin the surprise now, do we?”

Len fought against the pain he had to be feeling. He tried to climb to his feet, but the Huntsman pulled a knife to Barry’s throat.

“Just sit back and enjoy the show, Snart.” He growled, leaning down to pull his dagger free from the criminal’s middle. “It’ll be the last one you ever see.”

Barry was forced, silently, to watch as all the dignitaries raised their glasses. “To King Oliver!” One of them celebrated.

“Happy Ever After!” The entire room chanted, before downing their glasses. Barry and Len watched in horror as the first dignitary grabbed at their throat. Then, another. Soon, everyone was choking and collapsing on the floor. At the end of the hall, the Queen walked out, smiling gleefully as the last princess choked to death.

Then, everything was deathly still.

“Anyone for seconds?” She asked. “No?”

She stepped over the bodies of all the dead party-goers, until she stood in the center of it all. Slade led Barry in, his knife still positioned at his throat, dragging a wounded Len behind them by the collar of his shirt. Mick was lurking around near one of the food tables, watching the scene carefully.

“My Queen.” The Huntsman threw Len at the Queen’s feet, but kept Barry in the same position. The Queen waved her hand, and Slade backed off, his knife back in his sheath.

 Barry rubbed at his throat. “Mom…”

“I was going to let you go.” The Queen interrupted. Her eyes were focused on all of the dead bodies on the floor, like she couldn’t bring herself to look at her son. “I don’t know why. “

“You do know why.” Barry argued. “I’m your son.”

“No.” The Queen shook her head. “You were a mistake. An accident. Now, leave, before I change my mind.”

“No!” Barry grabbed his mother’s arm and forced her to look at him. Her eyes were full of sadness and turmoil, and Barry knew he was breaking through. “I am not leaving you! You are my mother, and if you want me gone, you’ll have to kill me.”

“Barry…” He heard Len gasp. The criminal tried to push himself to his feet. “Barry, no…”

That horrible look returned to the Queen’s face as she motioned to Slade once again. “Fine. Kill them both, starting with Mr. Allen.”

Barry glanced back at Slade, who was eyeing them both curiously. “My lady?”

“NOW, or I’ll do it myself!”

The curiosity was gone, and Slade shrugged. “As you wish, milady.” He raised his crossbow to Barry, aiming directly at his heart.

“NO!”

Slade was suddenly tackled to the ground, his crossbow sliding across the floor. Mick straddled the Huntsman, burying punch after punch into his face. After a few good hits, Slade broke free, landing a punch of his own in Mick’s side and knocking him to the floor.

“MICK!” Barry shouted. He made to run and help him, but the Queen took advantage of Barry’s distraction to wrap her hands around his neck.

Len tried to pull himself towards Barry to help, but he was bleeding out fast. Mick was lying on the ground with the Huntsman’s crossbow aimed at him. They were all going to die.

His eyes were tearing up as he clawed at his mother’s hand, but he was still able to see Len draw his hunting knife and stab Slade in the back of the leg with it before collapsing on the ground. Slade howled with pain, and Mick delivered a kick to the arm holding the crossbow, causing him to fire straight up at the domed skylight above.

 Barry’s vision began growing spotty.

_The blurry shape of his mother was just visible through the water…Barry tried to sit up, but something was holding him under…why wouldn’t his mom help him? Did he do something wrong?_

There was a grunt from far off that sounded like Slade, but all Barry could comprehend was the murderous gleam in his mother’s eye. He grabbed at her hair, trying to get leverage to pull her off, when his fingers wrapped around something cold and hard.

_Poison is the way the Queen will strike. And the way she must be defeated._

Barry yanked it free from the Queen’s hair and brought it down, hard. Suddenly, he could breathe again. The Queen was backing away from him, her hand over the side of her face. Her white gloves were speckled red with blood. The same blood dripped from the end of the poisoned comb in Barry’s hand.

Barry released it like it burned him and watched, horrified, as his mother collapsed to the floor. “No…” He gasped, not wanting to believe what he’d just done. “Please, no.” He fell to his knees beside his mother, bringing her head to rest in his lap.

When hazel eyes met hazel eyes, Barry knew that he was looking at Nora Allen once again. She smiled and reached a hand up to rest on his cheek. “Barry…my beautiful boy…” Her fingers wiped away the fresh tears dripping down his face. “Don’t cry.”

“Mom…” Barry croaked. “Please, don’t leave me again.”

Nora shook her head. “I can’t help it this time. I…I’m sorry. I…I was a poor wife…and, what’s worse…a poor mother…” Her body thrashed in Barry’s arms for a moment. “Barry, forgive me…please, forgive me…”

            Barry nodded frantically, running his fingers through her hair the same way she would when he had nightmares as a child. “Always, Mom. I love you…I love you so much, and Dad and I have missed you so much.” He sniffed as he wiped another tear away on his shirt sleeve. “I’m okay, Mom. Dad and I are okay. You can rest now.”

            Nora gave a small nod. Then, she was dead.

            That’s when Barry allowed himself to fall apart. Behind him, he could hear Mick walking tentatively towards him, delivering one last kick to Slade Wilson’s dead body. A groan cut through the silence as he assumed Mick pulled Len up—or maybe picked him up, who knew with Mick?

 At one point, he saw Sara, Joe, and Iris leading Oliver in by his leash, Thea limping behind them. All he could focus on now, though, was his mother lying dead on the floor in a strange land, among a sea of dead bodies.

            That is, until the nearest one started to move.

“What the hell?!?” He shouted, jumping back away. He was helped to his feet by an entirely too amused Mick, the only person that didn’t seem surprised when all of the ‘dead’ partygoers started waking up.

            “Mick?” Len raised an eyebrow from where he was cradled—yes, _cradled_ —in his partner’s arms.

            The wolf shrugged. “I may have switched out the poison for some of that assassin knock out stuff instead. Had to make it look convincing.” He kissed Barry’s cheek. “Sorry I kept it from you. I had to convince the Queen that I was really on her side.”

            “Oh, what happened?” The Dog Prince was sitting up, holding his head. Across the room, Joe removed the muzzle and leash from Oliver.

            “Go get him, Oliver.”

            The golden retriever ran for his body, full speed. The Dog Prince, seeing his own body, held out his arms, welcoming. Oliver jumped into them, and the second they touched, magic whipped around the two. They spun violently, features on each changing this way and that, until the dog stood where Oliver had been, and Oliver where the dog had been.

            Oliver touched his chest, his arms, his face, and smiled. “I’m back!” He announced. “I’m me again; I’m back!”

            The room seemed confused until Cinderella spotted the woman in Barry’s lap. “The Queen was here!”

            Everyone let out a gasp. “Prince Oliver saved us!” Someone shouted, but Oliver shook his head.

            “No. I was helpless. If it weren’t for Barry Allen and his family, along with Leonard Snart and Mick Rory, she would have succeeded.” His eyes met Barry’s, and the two shared a smile. “I owe them all my life and kingdom.”

            Maybe everyone cheered after. Or maybe everyone remained in shocked silence. Barry never actually found out.

            Because, at that moment, exhaustion and shock finally caught up with him, and he passed out beside his mother’s dead body.

0000000

            It’d been two days since the Queen’s assassination attempt. Barry was lying in the bed Oliver had offered for him, sleeping like the dead. Len was curled up in the armchair set up at the foot of the bed, a book open in his lap. Mick glanced back at the two men he loved from his place beside the window. He and Len hadn’t left Barry’s room since Oliver carried him in after he collapsed in the ballroom.

Mick knew that Len needed to rest. The healers told them that Slade had missed anything vital, but there would be a nasty scar on his torso, and his blood loss had been severe. But, Len was stubborn, and once the healers said he’d live, he walked straight to Barry’s room to wait.

After his second day standing vigil, Mick tried to push him to go to his own room and sleep, but Len, of course, refused, instead taking short naps in his chair whenever he felt his eyes growing too heavy and he didn’t think Mick was watching—which he was.

            The wolf turned away to stare back out the window. He knew what everyone thought: Why hadn’t he been tempted to serve the Queen? After all, she offered to bring back the golden days for wolves. He would’ve had a high standing. He had no love for Oliver Queen or his family.

            Something changed in him. Something he couldn’t explain. He’d seen the same happen to Len, back in Kissing Town. Barry had changed something in both of them.

            A small moan on the bed drew his attention. Len was already on his feet, rushing to Barry’s bedside, so Mick took his time to cross over to the bed and crawl over to his side. Barry’s hair was ruffled, his eyes heavy with sleep, but a small grin grew on his face when he saw them.

            “Hey.”

            Mick leaned down to nuzzle his cheek as Len took one of his hands in his own. “Hey, Doll.”

            He groaned. “What happened?”

            “You passed out after Oliver changed back.”

            Barry hummed. “Thought that was a dream. You two been watching over me?” He asked quietly, his words slurring slightly.

            “Course we have.” Mick chuckled. “Lenny over here hasn’t left that chair in the two days you’ve been out.”

            Len shot him a glare, but Mick ignored him. Barry gaped at them in shock. “Have I really been asleep that long?”

            His eyes started to focus more, and Mick could see the moment when the events all locked into place in his head. After all, the kid did kill his own mother to stop her from killing him. That’d be enough to mess up anyone.

            Barry’s eyes started shining with tears, and he covered his mouth with his hand. “What did I do?” He gasped, a sob shaking his body. “I killed her…”

            Len moved from his spot by the bed to lay beside Barry. Mick moved closer against the kid’s back, his arm wrapping around both of them. Barry cried, long and hard, over his mother. Mick understood. She may have been a bitchy psychopath, but no one deserved to lose their mother.

            “You did what you had to do, Scarlet.” Len assured, pressing a kiss to Barry’s forehead. “But you have to let her go.” If Mick hadn’t known Len as long as he had, he never would’ve noticed the way his voice cracked. “You _need_ to let her go.”

            They laid like that for nearly two hours, finding comfort in their closeness and blocking out the rest of the world.

           

            It didn’t last—of course it didn’t, when did good things ever last? Soon, Iris was walking into the room, telling them that the prince wanted to have dinner with all of them—The Heroes of the 9 Kingdoms—and that he would be presenting them all with honors. Mick, of course, argued with Oliver-fucking-Queen, who he still didn’t like, and had the event pushed back until the next day. Barry needed his rest. The prince agreed, though he made sure to emphasize that “Resting means _rest_ , Rory!”, like he’d try something.

            Well, maybe under other circumstances…         

But all things end. And Barry was better before they knew it. Mick knew the emotional scars of killing his mother would never heal, but if he and Lenny had to spend the rest of their lives soothing them, it would be no hardship.

0000000

If high school senior Barry could see him now, being escorted by not just one handsome man, but two, he would’ve been okay with Joe scaring off his date. Mick and Len acted like they were the luckiest people in the 9 Kingdoms, which made Barry blush and sputter.

Not as much as getting an award in front of delegates from all the 9 Kingdoms, though.

They, along with Iris and Joe, were given seats of honor in the front row of the throne room, where Oliver and Thea were waiting, both wearing grins of pride. Oliver started a speech about why they were there, the trials he faced as a dog—though Barry was pretty sure that he was gold through a lot of it, so did he really do anything?—and how he couldn’t have done it without them. Barry actually stopped listening after Oliver described saving Barry from Malcolm at Joe’s house, though Barry was almost positive it was the other way around.

He was almost willing to stomp down to the dungeons and ask Malcolm how he remembered it before they sent him to Snow White Memorial.

“Now,” Oliver announced, back straightened and chin raised like the king he was. Barry focused back on the ceremony. “I would like to reward those who assisted me through this endeavor. First, Detective Joseph West.”

            Joe stepped forward, bowing when Thea placed a medal around his neck. “This man, though harsh and unhelpful at first,” the smile that had been on Joe’s face turned to a glare, “has proven himself loyal, brave, and self-sacrificing.” The glare softened, and Oliver took Joe’s hand to shake. “In these kingdoms, you will always and forever be known as Joseph the Valiant.”

            Everyone applauded as Joe walked back to his seat with a wide grin on his face. “Next, Miss Iris West.” Iris stepped up, and Thea repeated the process. “A young, independent, resourceful woman, willing to do whatever it takes to do what she feels is right. Hail, Iris the Triumphant.”

            A satisfied smile appeared on her lips, and, instead of shaking his hand, she threw her arms around Oliver’s neck in a hug. Sara was waiting when she arrived back at her seat, pecking her on the cheek proudly once she sat down.

            “Now, Leonard Snart and Mick Rory.” Both criminals groaned, but Barry pushed them forward, giving them both a thumbs up as they went. “For the two of you, I don’t have names or medals.”

            Mick snorted. “Typical.”

            “I have something I’m sure you’ll both appreciate more.” Thea handed him a scroll, which he gave to Len. “This is an official pardon for both of you. Your records are clean.”

Neither seemed impressed, but Barry could tell they were secretly happy. “Also, for Mick. All laws against wolves in the 4th Kingdom have been repealed, and all of the dignitaries who attended the coronation and know you saved their lives are fighting for the same in their own kingdoms. With any luck, wolves will be considered free citizens across the 9 Kingdoms in less than a year.”

            Mick’s jaw dropped. If Barry didn’t know better, he’d think that the wolf was going to cry. They didn’t shake hands, and they most certainly didn’t hug, but the ex-criminals and king gave each other a solemn nod, which Barry considered a big step for them. Finally, Oliver motioned Barry onto the stage.

            “Barry Allen.” He sighed, a soft smile on his lips. “How can any award or words express my gratitude for all you’ve done, or my condolences for what you lost?” Instead of taking something from Thea, Oliver reached into his pocket and pulled out a rectangular case. When Barry opened it, he knew what he had in his hands was something so special.

            “This,” Oliver said quietly, as though the contents of the case were secret, “was the last thing my grandmother—the last thing Snow White—gave to me before she left this castle for the final time.” It was a rose, dried and pressed like it’d been nestled in the pages of a book for all the past years. “She told me that, one day, I would get to see her one last time, even though she wasn’t coming back. I didn’t understand then, but now I do.”

            He stepped forward and pulled Barry in a hug. “It’s okay to be happy now.” He whispered. “Your mother would forgive you.”

           

            Afterwards, everyone slipped away into the banquet hall, where Oliver was holding a feast in their honor. Barry, though, slipped away into the mausoleum. There was something he needed to do.

            His mother was lying on a stone slab in the center of the room—despite his and all the kingdoms’ feelings for her, Oliver made sure her body was taken care of and placed with respect, if only for Barry’s sake. He walked in a quietly as he could, like the sounds of his footsteps would wake her, and stopped at the side of the slab.

            He took Snow White’s flower and laid it on his mother’s folded hands, on top of the poisoned comb he’d killed her with. The second his fingers left it, the flower came to life, blooming like a freshly grown rose. With no one to watch, Barry let his tears fall freely.

0000000

            Mick and Len entered the banquet hall slowly and awkwardly. It was strange, being considered heroes when only a few weeks ago, they were menaces to society. Speaking of which… Mick flinched when he noticed Queen Riding Hood III and a pair of her advisors approach them.

            “Michael.” She greeted, the sneer her mother used to give him absent from her lips. “It’s been a long time.”

            Mick grunted in response. Usually, people took that as a sign to go away and leave him alone, but apparently, Riding Hood didn’t understand that.

            “I would like to speak with you,” she continued, her eyes flickering over to Len, “alone, if that’s possible.”

            Mick was about to tell her to fuck off—anything she could say to him, she could say to Len. But Len, the asshole, patted Mick on the shoulder.

            “I’m going to go find three seats beside each other. You talk to your…whatever.” He avoided the word ‘family’, mostly because he knew that Mick considered him, Lisa, and Barry his only family (maybe he’d have to add the Wests to that list. Iris at least).

            After Lenny left, Riding Hood motioned for him to move out of hearing range from the other guests with her. She cleared her throat. “I want to apologize for my mother’s past actions.” She said, shifting nervously in an unqueenly way. “She was a bitter, prejudice old woman who was jealous of your mother and wanted any reason to get rid of her.”

            Mick shrugged. This wasn’t anything he didn’t already know.

            “Anyway, I want to prove to you that I’m not like her. I wish to take Prince Oliver’s lead and welcome wolves as full, free citizens in the 2nd Kingdom. However, I would need someone to overlook the transition and who understands wolves enough to represent them in the royal court. Preferably someone with royal blood.”

            She raised an eyebrow like she thought she was being subtle. All Mick could do was stare, slack-jawed, at the woman. Before he could say anything, she waved her hand. “Don’t answer now. Think about it. We leave in a week to return home, and we would like for you to return with us. And we would be more than happy to welcome your partners into our home.”

            Mick turned to see Barry entering the room, his eyes swollen and red where he’d obviously been crying. Riding Hood gave him a pat on the shoulder before gliding away to her seat, leaving Mick with a lot to think about.

            As he approached his seat, he resisted the urge to laugh when Len stood up for Barry like one would do a lady of the court. Barry shook his head and moved to take his seat, but there was no way Mick wasn’t going to get in on the action.

            “Hey!” Barry laughed as the wolf pulled out his chair for him with a bow. He rolled his eyes, though Mick could see the tell-tale scarlet blush creeping across his cheeks. When they were all seated, waiters came by to place plates of fish in front of them.

            “So…” Len started, pushing the greens on his plate around with his fork. “Have you decided what you’re going to do?”

            Mick tensed. How did Len know about Riding Hood III’s offer? But then he realized the question was for Barry, who swallowed hard.

            “I…I don’t know yet. I haven’t given much thought to it. I mean, I know Iris and Sara are both going home to Central.”

            Mick figured. Since the Queen’s downfall, the two young ladies had been inseparable. Even now, they were sitting across the table, a few seats down beside Joe, Sara feeding Iris from her plate. A year ago, he would’ve called it sickening. Now, though…

            “And I think that Joe’s going with them…” Barry continued, “and then there’s my dad to consider. He has no one. And where could I go? Sure, Oliver would welcome me here, but would I have a place here?”

            Mick took Barry’s right hand, while Len took his left. Both stared at him with every ounce of love and affection they had. The unspoken _you have us_ echoed loudly between them, and after a few seconds, Barry cleared his throat awkwardly. “Well, I mean…” He drew his hands away in favor of cutting into his fish. “If it’s fate…I mean, you two are each other’s happy ever afters. As much as I love both of you, there’s really been no sign that—”

            He went silent, his fork dropping to the table, and his eyes locked on his fish. Mick arched his neck over to see what had startled Barry so badly, and he knew, right then, that Barry would be staying with them.

            “It’s my ring.” He said, reaching into Barry’s fish and pulling it free from the meat. “Stupid fish must have swallowed it when I threw it in the canal in Kissing Town. There’s your sign!”

            The seats around him grew quiet as everyone watched them nosily. Down the table, Joe seemed stuck between glaring daggers and begrudged acceptance. Iris and Sara both were grinning like idiots. At the head of the table, Oliver was smirking knowingly, like he approved of them for his friend…which honestly, Mick could still care less about, pardon or not. His gaze moved from Barry’s shocked face, to Len disbelieving face. Barry was the first to somewhat snap out of it, extending his left arm for Mick to place the ring on. The table erupted into cheers as Barry leaned forward to kiss him, before turning to kiss Len just as deeply and passionately.

            When Joe, Iris, and Sara left through the mirror the next day, there were hugs and tears. Iris squeezed Barry so tightly that he couldn’t breathe, then forced a promise to come back and visit every now and then out of him. After she and Sara stepped through the portal, Joe pulled his son close, and Barry felt like a little kid again, being comforted by his father.

            “You’ll let us know if you decide to have a ceremony and everything, right?” He asked, trying to hide the tears flowing down his face. Barry nodded, not even trying to hide his.

            “I love you, Dad.” He whispered, practically burrowing into Joe’s coat. The detective kissed his son’s forehead.

            “I love you, too, son.”

           

            Oliver allowed Barry, Mick, and Len to stay in the castle until the day the delegates left to return to their own kingdoms. He offered to let them stay indefinitely, but Barry explained that Mick had his own kingdom to assist in, though he would come back whenever Oliver needed him.

It would be nice to write that Barry, Len, and Mick all lived happily ever after. However, it wasn’t long before their lives were interrupted by another crisis in the 9 Kingdoms. That story, though, is not this one. And this story is done. When you live every day with all your heart, then you can have happy ever after, even if it's only for short time.

            There’s a moment in every person’s life when something extraordinary happens to them—when love hits them unexpectedly, when they find themselves letting go of their darkness and turning to the light, when they decide to throw caution to the wind and live. For Barry Allen, that time was now.

 

**THE END**

           

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this is it! I FINALLY FINISHED. YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW HAPPY I AM. I really hope everyone liked it :)  
> If you want to read my other stories, go on my profile. I'm about the start a story to go with "Our World's about to Break", and I have a Flashwave story I'm planning out.
> 
> Also, I'll be participating in Flashwave week! 
> 
> ...I wish there was a 10th Kingdom sequel so I could add on here. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading <3

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Art for Wasted Wishes, Failed Endeavors, and Most Precious Dreams](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8236091) by [HouseAu3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HouseAu3/pseuds/HouseAu3)




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